Going to the Chapel
by theladyknight
Summary: Planning a wedding can be hectic. Unfortunately for Sora and Yamato, their lives are crazy enough the way it is. As their friends step in to help, one thing’s for certain—it’ll be a wedding no one will ever forget Sequel to TTHB UPDATED 6.18.09!
1. Question and Answer

Going to the Chapel

By theladyknight

**Disclaimer:** Digimon—not mine!

**Summary:** Planning a wedding can be hectic. Unfortunately for Sora and Yamato, their lives are crazy enough the way it is. As their friends step in to help, one thing's for certain: it'll be a wedding no one will ever forget! Sequel to "To the Highest Bidder"

Well here it is. I've been waiting for a long time to start this, and I've got so many ideas from you guys and even just crazy things that have come to me. Thank you all for the reviews for "To the Highest Bidder". I hope this sequel lives up to your expectations. (If you haven't already read "To the Highest Bidder", I strongly reccomend you do before reading this!) So without further ado, I bring you…in **Inconnu**'s words: To the Highest Bidder: The Sequel.

Chapter 1: Question and Answer

"…cause my heart belongs to you." The pale blue light that had been illuminating Yamato cut off exactly as his final note died.

The arena was plunged into darkness, setting off an enthusiastic cry from the crowd. Girls of all ages were locked in an infinite screaming contest, each trying to get her idol—any of the four men on stage—to glance in her direction. The guys around them, and make no mistake; there was an equal number of men here, rolled their eyes but cheered along as well, as masculine as they could manage.

"Thank you and goodnight," the blond called into his microphone, giving the devoted crowd below him one last wave.

As the lights slowly began to turn back on, burly security guards ushered the four "Wolves" to the side of the stage I was waiting on.

"Awesome show, guys! Yutaka, I particularly liked your impromptu guitar solo." I smiled at them while all the stage hands grabbed bottles of water, towels, anything within their reach, overzealously providing their support to the rock stars before them.

"But you couldn't have warned me?" Yamato panted out as he accepted a fluffy white towel from one of the men.

"If I remember correctly," my face held an impish grin, "you were being mauled by fangirls in the front row at the time. If anything, you should be thankful."

The band howled with laughter while Yamato glared at me. "Any more insults you want to throw at me, Sor?"

"I think I'm good for now, Yama. But if I think of any, I'll let you know immediately."

Takaishi smirked at him. "So will the rest of us."

"What are we hanging around here for, guys? The people in charge said there were no backstage passes given out. We may as well leave before our legion of fans begins to stalk us. We'll never get out of here if they do that."

I nodded at Akira's request; he was always the most reasonable of the group. "I'll call the bus driver and tell him to pick us up here. That should give you guys enough time to clean out your dressing rooms. Meet me here in five."

"Yes, ma'am," Yutaka commented, saluting to me but wearing a roguish smirk at the same time.

Each of the four boys in front of me parted ways, hurrying off to his own dressing room. I whipped out my cell phone and in no time had communicated our plans to the tour bus driver.

As I shut my phone, I looked around me, breathing in the last scents of Paris. It's hard to believe how things have grown and changed in my life over the past four years. Up until that point in my life—at just around the time I turned eighteen—my life was as normal or as normal as it ever got.

But it all changed. Back then, no one outside my company of friends and relatives in Odaiba, Japan knew who Sora Takenouchi was. I never expected that in a very short period of time my life would become one wild rollercoaster, a never stopping ride of fun, amusement, work, chaos and every other little adjective used to describe an adventure. I never imagined being thrust into the field of international fame, glory, and notoriety, traveling across the globe and meeting people _I _consider my idols. I never planned on being the envy of millions of young teenage girls and even older women. I never assumed I'd be arranging concerts, promoting cds and setting up events for the most popular band out there—according to the most recent "It List". I never fathomed making enough money to support both my parents and myself for a good few years at the tender age of twenty-two. And I never believed I'd be the girlfriend of Yamato Ishida.

It's funny how things can change just like that, though.

I don't need to delve in on that subject. Everyone on every inhabited continent knows our story—should they have access to any form of media. When the paparazzi gets wind of something, they'll do everything and anything to let the public know. Gossip travels fast everywhere these days. As soon as it was made known that The Wolves had asked me to be their manager, the flood came.

Noah had it easy compared to us.

Instantly anyone who was at the signing gala or personally knew one of the four members of The Wolves, or myself, became every reporter's best friend. There were at least twenty-five different versions of the gala ordeal, none of them coming close to the truth with the exception of word fresh from Taichi's big mouth. From the gala, they moved onto the reasons I had been requested to be manager, the fate of the band, the release of the first single and most notably, each member's love life.

All the stories and rumors floating around make my head spin daily. It's an unbelievable twister of events. The winds pick up, bringing hot new hypothesises daily, spreading from one part of the world to the other.

I learned my lesson right away as did the guys. None of us leaked anything to the press. Our public lives were our concerns. We didn't need others intruding on our lives, gossiping about our decisions or whispering words of supposed wisdom. We'd been living our lives for twenty-two years all by ourselves, and we got along fine without the public knowing play-by-play details of our lives then. Why should now be any different?

Being rock stars and manager of "The hottest thing to hit the world since the invention of the wheel"—as some magazine put it—hasn't affected us. We're still the same normal people we used to be with the exception of our fame. The guys are all completely grounded. At the beginning there were a few lapses on all our parts, but we're only human. None of us are perfect. The rumors dealing with us leading perfect lives and being the perfect band are some of the worst, at least in my opinion.

I thank my maker for Yamato and the sanity he brings to me everyday. He's been around this kind of thing for such a long time. If I'm ever having a particularly nasty bout with the media and "today's newest developments", he's there for me one hundred percent. And I love him for that more with each coming day.

People wonder how we do it. Yama and I have been together for officially four years. It's one of the questions he's plagued with during interviews. "How do the two of you last?" "Is there a secret to your relationship?" "Are you two for real?" The questions are meant to bring an earthquake most of the time, to shake up our relationship in a lot of cases. But Yamato handles them coolly, hiding behind a rough mask he tends to create at times.

"She gets me and I get her. There's nothing secretive about that, is there? Before we began a relationship, we were best friends. Even now today she's my best friend."

It works both ways. Yamato _is_ my best friend in addition to my boyfriend, lover, holder of my heart, whatever normal or corny phrase he's penned as. We're not the perfect couple as we're often dubbed. I can't begin to describe the number of times we argue about little things, get into glaring matches, and hate each others' guts for a short period of time. But we survive off the normalcy of our relationship. No matter how famous we get, how well known our names are or how incredibly popular our life stories are, deep down we're still just Yamato and Sora, two crazy best friends who happen to have found "the one" in each other.

"Sora, is one of your personalities awake?" Speak of the devil. He gave a delightfully irresistible grin. "You told us to be ready in five minutes. _We're_ waiting for _you._"

I glared at the blond before me, watching as he struggled to carry his bass and a large bag filled to its capacity with all the needed necessities for the concert. "Yep, make sure you don't drop anything though. Rabid fangirls might post it on a website, asking for the highest bidder to buy it. That or they'll frame it."

We all headed toward the doors, the rest of the band watching the display between their lead singer and me. It was a common occurrence, our sparring matches. Yamato was quite frequently the target. As I said before, though we may have taken our relationship to a much higher level, we're still best friends at heart. We can't go through the day without friendly bantering—flirting, whatever you want to call it. Once I get started teasing him, the other guys can't help but join in. At times they get me with a nice comeback, but given the fact our friendships aren't as close as mine and the blonde's, they normally aim for Yamato as well.

"How do I know _you_ won't be the one to do that? After all, you did pay a shockingly large amount of money to buy me back in high school."

"Only out of pity,"

"That's not what I heard."

A driver stepped out of the bus, walking over to help the guys with their things. I looked behind our large tour bus to see the roadies gathering together all the larger equipment. At least I don't have to remind them to start this time. Things like that make my job easier.

I was making my rounds, checking to make sure everything had been loaded. The guys were beginning to board the bus, but I felt Yamato's presence behind me. "Yes, blondie?"

He smirked at me. "I have a present for you."

"What would that be?" my feet turned around, making my body face his.

"It's my annual surprise for you." It had become a common occurrence. Normally I don't stick with the band when they get to a certain place. I'll fly out to another city, state or country to scope out our next venue and make sure all preparations are in line. I'll always rejoin them the last night we're there, and Yamato makes it a habit to buy me something—usually jewelry—from the country or continent we're in as a keepsake. "Close your eyes."

"Why?" I demanded, shutting them nonetheless.

"Because I said so." I heard some shuffling and assumed he was getting the gift ready. "Okay, open up your eyes."

He wasn't standing in front of me anymore. I stood confused for a moment before I caught sight of him on the ground, a box in his hand pointing up at me. "Yama…wha…oh my God…"

* * *

Akira let out a low laugh. "Checkmate."

"Damn it," Takashi cursed, slamming his pawn down on the chessboard he and the keyboarder were currently at.

I smiled over at the two, looking up from the datebook I was penciling our latest plans in. Stretching out on the seat I was laying on, my eyes searched the midsection of the plane to see what everyone was up to. Today, a fresh wonderful new day—the events of last night have left me in a rather chipper mood—we were flying back to Odaiba for the first time in nearly five and a half months. That could also be fueling my exuberant mood.

I was surprised to be so alive and cheerful. Though it was nearly noon, most of the guys were not in a talkative, cheerful state. Probably a result of our hangovers from last night's celebration. Yutaka was attempting to read a book, but his eyes were glazed over, giving off the appearance he wasn't getting much reading done. Akira and Takashi, after a much needed aspirin each, were finally starting to get over it. Yamato was still sleeping in the back section of our private jet. But I couldn't blame him; it'd been one hell of a celebration last night.

"What are you working on?"

I looked up to see Yutaka approaching, book abandoned on the coffee table, replaced by a large cup of coffee. "I managed to get some rearranging done. One of your interviews fell through; the magazine was already booked solid that day. You guys now have Thursday off."

Akira ventured over, wrapping me in a friendly one-armed hug. "You are a goddess. I don't know how you managed to do it, but I'm really going to appreciate a well deserved break. Particularly cause it'll give me a chance to catch up with my family."

"And enjoy home sweet home," a grinning Takashi agreed, joining us on the large maroon couch.

Looking from face to face, I realized how close I had become to the three of them over the past four years. At the beginning we were friends; not the best of friends but on good terms. As time has gone on and we've gone through everything we have, our friendships have grown.

Akira is the calmest of the group. When anyone has a problem, he is the one with the rational sense to talk us through it. Usually he gets put in charge of breaking up any arguments as well. And you don't want to be on his bad side. His occasional temper makes Yamato's look weak. A natural pianist and keyboardist, Akira originally started out with classical roots, later changing to the rock style everyone was familiar with. The media portrayed him as brains of the group, and he had a large following of fans.

Takashi is the crazy guy, and the drums were a perfect fit for him. Humor is his best attribute, an innate gift. He always knows what to say if someone is down, depressed, or if he just wants to tease someone for the hell of it. Takashi can be a bit reckless and brash—he once went bunging jumping and the media thought he was suicidal. It took ages to explain that rumor away—yet he normally was on his best behavior. To me, he is like a mix or Taichi, Tracey, and Mimi all in one, reminding me of the home I miss.

Yutaka is the quiet one. If you'd known him away from the music scene, you'd be shocked to find him as the lead guitar player in a rock band. He keeps to himself a lot of times; it's more likely to find him reading a book or paper then out in a club, dancing the night away. Yutaka is the one girls adore because he's the strong, sensitive type…at least according to the tabloids. At times it seems like he's too much of an introvert, but other times—namely when alcohol is involved—watch out.

And, of course, who am I to forget the last member of the band? Girls around the world worship him. Females melt at the sound of his voice. Women plead with him to date them, marry them, and have their babies. I get a kick out of this factor—the tabloids _love_ building up his image, hopefully waiting for a tsunami of bad press to come so they can shoot it right down. Thankfully, nothing horrible has happened so far.

It's hard to deal with all the attention he gets sometimes, being his girlfriend. I can sympathize with a lot of his fans. I was like that with famous celebrities, hanging pictures up in my locker, having innocent crushes on my favorite idols that I would never ever have a chance with romantically, the works. But it's a bit bothersome at times. I mean how would _you_ like it if woman threw themselves at your man?

I'm not totally completely green-eyed, though. I trust Yamato. We're too close for me to every doubt him, think he's cheating on me or act childish about it. If there is a secret to our relationship, it's probably trust. He trusts me; I trust him…it's no wonder our relationship is at its current stage.

Speaking of which:

"Sora, I really hope you don't go by any water in Odaiba." Akira happily mused.

"Why's that?" my reply came, though I already knew the answer.

"You'll sink with that bling on."

A groan interrupted the guys' laughter. "I could hear that in the sleeping quarters and even there it wasn't funny." Yamato had finally decided to rejoin the world of the living, walking over to the kitchen cupboard to grab some medicine before plopping down next to us. "I feel like hell."

"You look like hell," Takaishi replied.

"How much did we drink last night?"

Yutaka sighed, answering what we all knew. "Way too much. But back to the subject we were talking about before Sleeping Beauty decided to join us; I think I know why she agreed guys."

"Why's that?" It was an automatic response now.

The drummer picked up on his friend's lead. "Were you trying to blind her Yamato? It's no wonder she agreed to marry you; she can't see you!"

I had to laugh at that crack. It was _very_ true. Looking down at the gigantic stone on my finger, I'd be the first to admit their statement had validity. "Just wait guys. One of these days it'll happen to you. Then we'll be the ones making jokes."

As he was about to respond to my comment, the fuzzy, scratchy sound of the intercom being turned on filled our ears. "We are half an hour away from your hometown. I'd advise you all to begin getting things ready to go."

"You heard the man!" Akira exclaimed. Like last night at the concert, the guys all sauntered off to their own private quarters. I, too, stood up, getting ready to gather my luggage and personal things. I can't wait to get back home.

My sleeping quarters were much smaller than the guys', but it didn't bother me the least bit. They're the singers and band. I'm just the manager in charge of settling their crazy lives down as much as I can. It's a hard job, but I have to say I wouldn't want any of them to be in charge of it.

"Hey, red." Knowing that nickname only came from one person, I turned to see him follow me into my room, settling himself down on the small yet surprisingly comfortable bed. "How are we going to break our news to the people back home?"

I really hadn't thought about that question a lot. Sure, it had crossed my mind loads of times. Just with everything that was going on, I chose to push it back to one of the remote, desolate corners of my mind, somewhere I could worry about it later. Apparently this is later.

"Do you have any ideas? And who all knows about it already?"

"It's not many. I managed to keep my mouth shut."

"Surprisingly. Wait till the paparazzi gets wind of that. They're going to have an absolute field day."

He smiled at me, opening my suitcase so I could put the last of my clothes inside. "It'll die down eventually. Right now I'm more concerned about the people who actually know us. Obviously, the guys all know. Takuya did me a little favor, and I went to him awhile back for some man-to-man advice."

"To chicken to talk to your own father, Yama?"

"No, I needed his opinion on things. I wanted to make sure making a jump this big is a wise decision, particularly with all that happens in our lives."

That sparked my interest. Takuya has been there for us from the start, and we still talk to him constantly. He's always there to offer a lending hand despite his busy schedule. "What'd he have to say?"

"You can ask him at the airport, but he did give me his blessing…as did your father."

"So, are we going to tell any of the others?"

He raked a hand through his spiky hair, a few annoying strands dangling freely in front of his eyes. "I don't think we should go ahead and tell people individually. Knowing our family and friends, we'll have some sort of shindig where everyone will be. We can make the announcement there so people find out at once."

"I don't know, Yama. I mean, it's a good thing to tell everyone when they're all together, but I have a feeling a couple of people won't be happy we didn't tell them in advance..."

* * *

"Wow, I can't believe how quiet it is."

Akira's brow furrowed up. "Was there some sort of natural disaster or something? Because this place is dead silent. There are no crazy fans here to greet us."

He looked over at the other three band members. All of them had similar, content looks on their faces.

"ALL RIGHT!"

A chuckle sounded through the air, making its way over to where we were waiting. "So you guys _don't_ want to see all the fans lined up to see you guys? Since when?"

"Hey, Takuya." My mouth was the only one that could work. "We planned it this way. Everyone thinks you guys are arriving later tonight. I know how much you all miss home; I miss here tons. Takuya and I figured it was the least we could do—give you a homecoming welcome without it being an overly exuberant borderline stalkerish crazy one."

Takaishi was the first to regain his verbal abilities. The drummer faced Yamato, hands planted firmly on his hips, face arranged in a childish pout. "How'd you get the gorgeous, incredibly intelligent girlfriend?"

The blond wore an arrogant smirk. "Pure luck,"

Takuya had stood quietly up until this point. "So how is the soon-to-be Mrs. Ishida doing, putting up with the guys?"

My eyes searched around like a preying hawk, hoping no one had been in hearing distance of that comment. "I'd say it's way too early to say "soon-to-be". The whole shock of him asking hasn't left yet. There's no way the wedding will take place anytime soon."

"That's for sure," Yama answered, walking over to stand next to me, wrapping me tightly in his arms. "We're not going to rush into this at all. We'll take our time, decide on things later."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Takashi making a gag-me face. I rolled my eyes, glancing around the empty area. "Aren't some of our family and fri…"

"SORA!"

Spoke too soon. Tracey, Mimi, and Hikari came barreling towards me, pushing the blond rock star away from me—so hard he almost fell to the ground—and wrapping me in a huge hug. "How have you been? What's going on? We've missed you so much!"

The five men behind me could only watch as the girls went crazy, mouths each running as fast Olympic track stars. Things with them hadn't changed since we'd been away. I could tell the same was true with our other friends, the others' parents and even my own family.

Taichi was over to my right, catching up with Yamato. They were locked in an animated discussion, one I wasn't sure if I wanted to know what was about. Tai's in his last year at Tokyo University. He's been doing downright amazing for the soccer team, charting new school records in assists and goals. Rumor has it—from his big mouth—that a professional scout is coming to his next match. At the same time, he's also busy studying athletic training.

My cousin Tracey is also in her last year at Tokyo University. She's on her way to a degree in broadcast journalism. I couldn't see her doing anything but that, to tell you the truth. Tracey is as crazy as she's always been.

The two are dating again, and pretty soon it'll be there one-year anniversary. Their relationship has been a bit rocky since the end of our senior year of high school. Tai and Tracey have had a few trust issues, but it finally—thankfully—looks like they've resolved them.

As Mimi and Tracey continued to incessantly ramble on about God knows what, I caught Kari's eye, seeing her role her eyes in exasperation. 'They've only just begun,' she mouthed in my direction.

Hikari Yagami is now nineteen and a freshman at Tokyo University. Taichi loves the fact she's there so he can be all "overprotective big brother" when it comes to the boys she befriends and is romantically interested in. Some things really do never change. Kari isn't for sure on what she wants to major in, but I have a feeling it's something in the line of visual arts. She's still young, though, with plenty of time to make up her mind.

Yamato was now conversing with his younger brother and the band, all of them with large grins on their faces. Their parents stood in the background talking and catching up as well. Takeru has grown up into such an adorable young man. He like Hikari is nineteen, attending the same university and unsure about his field of study. Right now, he's leaning towards being an editor, but he's not for sure.

We were all waiting for the two of them to get together. It seemed only natural from their behavior around each other to casual closeness that followed them around wherever they went. But sadly, it didn't happen. Hikari got together with a fellow freshman at the university. His name's Willis, and he's a student originally from America. From what I've heard from Taichi, Hikari and Willis are close—they've been dating for a little over seven months—but she never has that indescribable happiness she does when she's around Yamato's brother. Takeru has been one hundred percent supportive of their relationship, but we can all tell it's killing him in the inside. I've always believed that second chances come around a lot; hopefully it's the case for the two of them.

Mimi and Koushiro both are attending the university in Kyoto. He's there for computer engineering while Mimi is concentrating on fashion design. They've been together since high school still. If anything, I thought they'd be the first of our group of friends to get married or even engaged. Apparently not…

Our group bonding continued inside the privacy of the airport—at least the private strip we landed at—for nearly the next hour. Everyone close to us: our friends, family and loved ones, were all there to greet us, taking time out of their schedules to welcome us back to Japan. Twenty minutes later, Yamato, Taichi, Tracey and I found ourselves ready to check in at the five-star hotel the band was staying at. We didn't want to be a bother to our families as we'd be in and out, what with the unpredictable schedule the guys are on.

I'd been forced to go inside the hotel first, waiting for the manager, employee or some random guest to find out The Wolves were residing here for the time being. I always do plenty of research when selecting hotels across the world, making sure we can get an entire floor or suite set aside for the guys. It's horrible sometimes when it doesn't happen that way. Even though the guys are popular and all, they'd like there peace and quiet to. Is that too much to ask?

This hotel had guaranteed us the entire top floor. I thought it would be an okay place. Maybe the people at the hotel wouldn't freak out when they saw us. But taking one look at the desk employee's face, my heart sank into a deep gorge.

I know that look. It's the look I'm constantly faced with all the time. People across the globe know me. My notoriety revolves around the fact I'm A) Manager of an incredibly popular band; and B) the girlfriend—well, fiancée, but they don't know that yet—of Yamato Ishida.

And I knew which look this is.

"Oh my God! You're Sora Takenouchi…Yamato Ishida's girlfriend!"

Good grief…

* * *

So, how long are you and Yamato in town?" Taichi asked, plopping down on the king-sized bed. We had safely managed to escape the crowd that had formed in the entry hall. Now, taking a well-deserved break—especially to catch our breath—my room was where we safely hid.

I grabbed my datebook from my purse. This thing was my life. I couldn't live without it any more. "Let's see; the guys have some interviews all day tomorrow. Thursday is a free day. Friday night is the concert, and we leave Saturday afternoon."

Tracey laughed, sitting down next to her boyfriend. "Well, you'd better pencil us in for Thursday."

"I'll consider it," I grinned. The door opened, and Yama reappeared, bearing with him a large container of ice and some pops and snacks from the vending machine down the hall.

"Did you get the munchies I requested, Yamato?" Taichi called, eyes meandering around the room for the remote.

"Do I look like a butler?"

"Do you want me to answer that question?"

Yamato rolled his eyes. "Yes, I got the food." He hastily dropped the items onto the dresser, kicking the door shut. "And don't call me Yamato in public. Call me George."

My eyes shot up from scanning the datebook, and I stifled a laugh. "I can't believe you remember that!" He pulled off the hat he'd used as a disguise and winked at me. Seeing as Tracey looked a bit confused, I explained the origins of the pseudonym.

"Alright, _Doritos!_"(Not mine!) Tai grabbed a bag, and after successfully finding the remote, flipped on the TV. A blurry image began to appear, gradually growing more visible. "The big game's about to start. I don't want to miss a minute. Japan vs. the United States—soccer final!"

Same old Tai. He may be twenty-one,—he'll be twenty-two like Yama, Tracey, and me in one month—but deep down, he's still sixteen. Some days, sadly, he acts even younger. "That doesn't look like the game, Tai. Looks like you've got it on some music station right now," Tracey stated.

The man snickered. "Ah, trashy music gossip shows. You gotta love them. Someday, we'll be seeing the two of you on there."

The image finally sharpened, television now completely on. Taichi's mouth dropped.

Oh shit…

"Th—th—Yamato, why are you and Sora on…why are you…what are you?"

"Oh my God!" Tracey's hand shot over her mouth, and she stood up.

The male brunette's eyes blinked rapidly, and he switched to another gossip station. The same image was being shown. "Did…how…did you actually?"

"Oh my God!" Tracey shrieked again.

"I told you we should have told them first." I murmured to the blond. He rolled his eyes and gave me his heart melting grin. It appeared neither of them could talk in legible thoughts or phrases.

"My best friend and my other best friend…" Thank you, Taichi! "You two…Yamato, you proposed and didn't tell us?"

"Guilty,"

"Oh my God!" Guess who…"You're getting married!"

I looked up at Yamato, unable to keep a large grin from forming. He beamed down at me, and we both slowly nodded.

"Ahhh!" Tracey shrieked. "There's going to be a wedding!" Her eyes lit up. "We get to plan a wedding."

"How'd the press find out?" I murmured to no one in particular.

Yamato looked as confused as I felt while the television gossip reporter blabbed on about all the details she—or whoever had found out about Yamato proposing and caught it on tape—knew. "Apparently some television person followed us outside and saw me proposing to you. I just hope that not too many of our friends saw the news yet. We wanted to tell them."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Taichi interrupted our musings, his face contorted in an unusual look. It was a cross between being incredibly pissed and joyously happy. I couldn't tell which.

"It's not like we weren't planning to," Yamato immediately jumped to our defense, "we were just going to tell everyone when we were all together."

"Still…but I see what you're saying. Congratulations you two!"

"Thanks," I was able to mumble as Yama claimed my lips with his own, giving me a heart stopping kiss in the process.

Tracey shrieked again and caused the two of us to end our bit of heaven. "Oh my God! I'm so happy for you two. But do you know what this means? We get to plan a wedding! This is going to be so awesome!"

"Calm down, Trace. It is going to be fun and all, but do you have any idea of what all is needed when planning a wedding?" my management side, the side that everyone automatically associates with the band jumped out. "We have to find a place, plan the date, order invitations, make a guest list…"

I would have continued to ramble, but thankfully Yama shut me up with his hand covering my mouth. "We're not planning on getting married that soon, Tracey. It'll probably be what…" he looked at me, "like a year at least. Right?"

I nodded my approval. We hadn't discussed any details yet, but I knew we would be doing a lot of wedding talk in the next couple of days. Planning our wedding would be a lot of fun, but I have a feeling that it's going to bring thousands of headaches as well. Another adventure has begun for Yamato and me. And I have a feeling we'll be dragging _everyone_ close to us into the mix. They won't mind…right?

A/N: Gah! I've forgotten how to write a _short_ chapter. The words just kept coming and a lot of them were needed for explanation as to what has happened. I left some things out—Yamato proposing, the celebration later in the night and a few other things—but I will cover them in the next chapter.

This story's not going to deal with just "the wedding". I'm going to try and capture the main elements and headaches associated with wedding planning, engagements and the works. I'll hit everything I can think of from dresses to the wedding party to invitations to the parties involved, and I apologize in advance if I miss anything—it's not like I've ever thought of planning a wedding before; it's probably never crossed my mind!

The actual wedding won't take place till the last few chapters, but I've already got the story planned out. Things with the band, Sora, Yamato and what all has happened will be revealed in more detail as the story progresses.

As for now, please review and let me know what you guys think about this story! I always love to hear what you have to think. Any suggestions, comments or criticisms are welcomed with open arms. Until next time, please review!


	2. News Spreads Fast

Going to the Chapel

By theladyknight

Disclaimer: Digimon—not mine!

**_Sweet-sorato:_**_ Thanks for the nice review! I'm glad you like what you've read so far, and I hope you update your own fic soon!_

**_Sorato-takari:_**_ You were reading this instead of Harry Potter:stares: You are crazy! Lol! _

**_Shadowcat:_**_ The sequel basically deals with them planning the wedding. The wedding doesn't happen till…:checks story outline:…chapter 12. But it'll be a wild ride up until then…_

**_Nickygirl:_**_ I kicked myself when I read your review because when I was proofreading last chapter I was like…I gotta add the ring bit in there somewhere…and then I completely spaced it off. It's explained in here, but because people didn't know they were engaged—or at least they thought so—they didn't want to give them evidence to point that way._

And thanks to:**_ Starfish, Emily-is-strange, Princess Kikyo Sora, anxious, Inconnu, Sugary Sweet, Curtis Zidane Ziraa, money makes me smile, Kuroi Black Nightingale, bluesints, Princessstphanie, Calare, Raquel, limeshine, KoumiLoccness, Mrs. Ishida-to-you, outxofxemotions, TrioWing, Kari, Jilliana, scorpion05, Ballet Kitty, Only Secret, Wishinstahhz, _**and **_blondie121147. _**

Chapter 2: News Spreads Fast

I'm starting to think the television set in Yamato's suite has been replaced with a gigantic slot machine. It's funny, to an extent, watching the channels fly by, but the real meaning doesn't bring happiness to my mind. It's more along the lines of annoyance.

I think Yama's gone through every channel at least five times in the last ten minutes. And our hotel boasts an astounding 122 channels of all varieties to choose from.

Normally, finding something to watch isn't much of a problem. There's _usually_ such a complex diversity of subjects to choose from. And if nothing else, there's most often some sort of trashy movie to stare at with glossy eyes till you fall asleep. But today every channel, despite its language or normal content, is running the exact same feature twenty-four seven.

"Word has it, he bought a one point two million dollar ring…"

"Sora es la novia bonitísima de Yamato Ishida…"

"Vrai ou faux?"

"Kaze no tayori…"

The slot machine was apparently growing tired. It slowly came to a halt and the numbers ended up falling into place, coming to the choice. I knew no matter what station we landed on, Yamato and I would be the subject of every conversation. "Sor, even the _infomercials_ are gossiping about us."

I walked over to his king-sized bed, resting next to my exasperated fiancé. He was as shocked and dazed as the rest of the band and I felt. I placed my arm on his back, massaging his shoulders and rubbing it in comforting circles. We all knew the paparazzi had found out and was bragging to the world that the two of us were "unofficially engaged". It was just…shocking?...they knew already.

It took them less than twenty-four hours.

Twenty-four hours!

Yamato leaned his head against mine as he brushed my hand away, pulling us down so we were lying back on the bed with an unfortunate angle of the television screen. It happened to be blaring away with some sort of trashy talk show, but we did our best to ignore it.

This day hasn't gone as planned so far. I came into his room nearly an hour ago so we could talk, rest up and watch some television. Even if we do see each other a good deal of the time, it's nice to keep some normalcy in our relationship. These are things, should we not be as well-known and famous as we are, that the two of us would usually do. The guys have interviews with about six magazines, three music stations and one with the Elemental Records label today, so a little rest and relaxation is almost a must before those hectic events.

But our plan became disrupted when we received a phone call from Akira, urging us to turn on whatever station popped up first. It was then, to our disgust and the other three guys', that we are the subject of every station's entertainment.

Haven't they ever heard of privacy?

It's insanely weird what some of the stations have been running as the latest news. While some lucky photojournalist—lucky in the sense he caught Yamato proposing and very lucky Yamato didn't catch him—captured the act happening, that's all the news the media has gotten. Takuya's been called, but he won't give them anything. And the only way to reach the band is through their manager.

But she's not talking.

Lucid, unbelievable comments are the rage right now. My ring is estimated at shockingly high amounts ranging from, depending on the country of gossip, 7 million yen, over a million American dollars to a billion some pesos. Then came this huge "breaking news—hot off the press story" that said Yamato and I had eloped overnight, and the engagement rumor was all just a big hoax to take the attention away from it. I could probably spend the next day and a half naming the other ridiculous stories, but they're all starting to make my head spin.

Getting into the whole band gig and music scene, we all knew we'd be faced with a dwindling amount of privacy. It's scary to think of the lengths some reporters will go to get a cover story or snap a picture of you when you just wake up or don't look your best. There are a lot of celebrities out there protesting against it right now, and I can see where their point comes from. Yamato admitted to me last night he'd hoped to avoid it all up until like a month before our wedding—or better yet _after_ the wedding.

But unfortunately he'd been caught in the act.

"Yeah, this is Mai from Osaka. I think Yamato-kun and Sora's relationship is fake. It's probably just an attempt to stir up some more publicity. Next thing we know we'll hear they pulled a Britney Spears and got hitched in some bar in America. Yama-kun is still free."

The people on the screen smiled at the woman's opinion. Two females and one chucky male sat on plaid sofas, sipping lattes and listening to callers discuss and debate our relationship. I'd always wondered who in their right mind would call in and who would even think about watching these kinds of shows.

Don't tell anyone what I'm doing right now.

"Hi, my name's Narimi. I completely support their relationship. It's cute how they went from friendship to love, and they make such an adorable couple! Good luck Yama-kun!"

"She can go to hell for all I care! Oh, this is Emika from Shinjuku. She deserves it for stealing Yama-kun from all of us."

One of the ladies on the screen let out a rich chuckled. "So, we've had harsh words and a couple—but very few—nice things. Tell us what you think of the unofficially declared engagement between Yamato Ishida and Sora Takenouchi. Our number is at the bottom of the screen."

"While we wait for more calls," the other lady, very closely resembling a flamingo from her attitude and attire, began to speak, "we're going to chat with a special guest."

"Makoto Orimoto served as the band's manager from their formation until the night they signed their contracts. He was mysteriously let go and is now here to give us his take on the relationship. Welcome, Makoto."

You have got to be kidding me. Apparently, Yamato had the exact same thought. "I thought we'd seen the end of him."

"Me too. I wonder what lies his twisted mind can come up with."

"Thank you for inviting me here, ladies." His reminiscent smile, that of a frightening circus clown, pushed an enormous wheel of memories into my mind. "She's simply corrupted all of Ishida's good sense. He got rid of me per her request, hired her as the manager and now she's reaping the harvest the band grew for her. Sora is nothing more than a gold-digging whore…"

I'm not as bothered by harsh, cruel words compared to the way I was at the beginning. They usually sting a bit, but I never let them leave bruises. I, along with those close enough to actually know me, can tell the truth from the fabricated myths. As long as I can tell myself that, I can manage. Makoto's words meant nothing. As he continued on, proclaiming that I hit on all the other band members quite frequently, along with making occasional passes on him, I really wanted to laugh at him.

But Yamato sure didn't.

He still carriers that motherly protective trait that I've worked endlessly to stop. It's cute—to an extent—but, seriously, enough is enough. I can stand up for myself quite nicely; we both know it. It's been the subject of numerous of our little arguments, and I think I've got him to a point where he only does it when he's really angry.

Right now merits "really angry" in Yamato Ishida's book.

I lay on the bed next to him, surprised there wasn't an ashtray or phone book through the TV screen. Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw his weapon of choice. His hand snuck toward the phone, but his plan definitely was not something I expected.

This could be very amusing.

"Hello?" the lady on the screen before us—the one who looked like a flamingo—asked sweetly, giving a hot pink-lipped smile to the audience. "It appears we have another caller. Do you have a remark regarding Yama and Sora?"

"Yeah, I have a few comments. First off, I think it's ridiculous you're getting paid to comment and listen to people gossip about someone's relationship."

They're so in for it. Mad Yamato is _not_ pretty.

"Number two, Sora is not a greedy slut or gold-digger. She's completely the opposite. Makoto, the band fired you for that reason, though thankfully you never tried to hit on any of us. And no, Sora was NOT the reason you were fired, and she never once hit on any of the other band members or wished to make a pass on you."

Makoto's face is seriously to die for. Apparently he knows who the pissed off caller is. I can hardly hold a straight face. How is Yama able to?

"Number three, Makoto you're just an idiot. Enough said there. To confirm what seems to be you peoples' worst fear, YES, I proposed to Sora, and she accepted. And why the hell would I waste over a million American dollars on a ring? Sora would kill me if I paid any ridiculous price like that, the guys would probably torment me forever, and I wouldn't even let myself _think_ of doing something like that. For any of you who don't know who this is…well, you can keep believing the dumb rumors!"

The phone slammed down on the receiver so hard that I assumed someone in the hotel would come complain about the noise. I pulled the irritated blond to me, finally letting my laughter explode. "Look at their faces!"

"That…felt so good," he admitted. My laughter was contagious, fueled on by the shocked expressions the two females wore. Makoto's face was too funny for words. It took us a good few minutes to regain our breath from our short-lived moment of humor. "But now people are going to know things are true. That's not the way we wanted it to be; we didn't even want them to know."

"They would've found out about things anyway. Better they hear the truth from you than some false source."

Yamato nodded, shutting off the television and rolling over so he was on his side facing me. "I just didn't want to hear them say that shit about you, particularly with it coming from Makoto's mouth."

"We both know that's the only thing he's full of, other than himself. Don't worry about it so much. People will believe what they want to. And if nothing else, you can just keep confirming and denying the rumors during all your interviews today."

He groaned. "Some vacation this is turning out to be. Can I just forget about everything?"

I was smiling as I kissed his pouting lips. "For the time being…"

* * *

"Welcome to Takenouchi Floral! How can I…"

CRASH!

She had clearly not been expecting me to stop by. "Hi Mom,"

"Sora!" She completely ignored the potted petunias—now lying in a crumpled pile at our feet. "Honey, it's so good to see you! Oh, you should have told me you were going to stop in this morning. I would've had a big lunch made. Is Yamato coming?"

"He'll be here after the interviews. I think he said sometime in the early afternoon."

Mom turned on the television she had installed a few years earlier in order to keep tabs on the band and me. "I'm sure we'll find an interview with them despite the station. I was expecting the two you later, but it will be nice to have some extra time to catch up. We have _a lot_ to talk about…"

Uh oh…

The look on her face was the same one she gave me when I was a little kid, caught red handed sneaking cookies from my grandmother's cookie jar. "Mom, I…"

She held up a delicate hand. "While I think it's incredibly fantastic you and Yamato are engaged, I was a bit shocked when I learned it from the news. And my shock increased when your father told me he already knew. Sora, I know you and I don't talk as much as we used to, but it's a bit harsh not to tell your own mother."

This is going to be fun.

"Dad knew long before I did. Yama asked Dad for his permission. You know how he can sometimes get to be a bit old-fashioned and play out that role of chivalrous knight. Those two and Takuya were the only ones who knew before us. We were planning on telling all our family and friends tomorrow at the little party you guys decided to throw, but somehow the press caught wind of things, and you can obviously see what happened. Taichi and Tracey found out yesterday from some gossip show. It wasn't that we didn't want you to be the first to know; Fate just decided to play her tricks on us."

The realization and my rational negotiating skills kicked in. Mom's smile was so powerful that it could have lit all of Odaiba for an entire year. "My baby's going to get married!"

She pulled me into a crushing hug, tears of happiness steaming from her eyes and starting to fall from my own. If we aren't careful, the Pacific Ocean may just get a bit larger.

"I had the exact same reaction. Oh, Mom, I'm so excited! Part of me is going crazy, thinking about how scary things around us with the media are. This news isn't going to die down anytime soon. But the other part of me is celebrating that I get to be Sora Ishida, that Yamato's going to be my husband. But it's going to take so much work. Yama and I were talking about it last night, and things seem intimidating. Neither of us knows the first thing about planning a wedding."

"But others do," Mom pointed out. "Ms. Takaishi and I will be there for you all the way along with your friends."

"Tracey and Tai have already pledged their support. I think Tracey's more excited than I am about things."

"That sounds like Tracey." Mom glided over to the rosewood cupboard and pulled out a pad of paper and some pens. "We can start writing some ideas down if you want."

I nodded my reply and joined her at the counter, TV blaring behind us. The station we had chosen, the station the television had last been on, boasted that they held the interview with The Wolves and promised to answer the question lurking on the minds of young and old. I think they're being a bit too dramatic. Besides, by the end of the day, I'm sure nearly every station will be running bits and pieces of multiple interviews.

Mom looked as anxious as I felt. Her almond eyes shone brightly in anticipation of the planning we were about to do and listening to Yamato's interview. She may not have been happy with me at first for not telling her, but right now she's about to erupt with joy.

My relationship with my mother has grown over the years. When I was younger, the two of us hardly ever saw eye to eye. Our attitudes clashed because we were too stubborn to attempt to meet in the middle. But as the years went by, each of us maturing with our age, things began to fall into place. It was a jigsaw puzzle, missing that last oblong but necessary piece.

And we found it.

Mom's been supportive of the band and me for such a long time. At first, she wasn't too thrilled about me taking online classes and being the band's manager, but she's come around. And it doesn't look like she's planning on stopping anytime soon either.

"We have a lot of important things we need to cover. Probably the most important is when and where. What date do you want the wedding to be?"

Okay, I haven't even been engaged for a week. Sure, I've always considered and dreamed about possible scenarios for my future wedding, but it was never serious. Planning a wedding isn't something to tackle alone. And I sure as hell wasn't going to make a choice Yamato and I need to make together. Besides, I'm still in shock from him actually proposing.

Truthfully, I hadn't known he was going to do it. In a lot of cases I hear, the female always seems to pick up little hints that the guy is going to pop the question. Something he does. Something she hears him say, the little things. But Yamato's not most guys.

Yama takes things regarding love slowly at his own pace but very seriously. He doesn't want to be hurt or hurt someone else. I knew he would ask me to marry him eventually when he was ready to have a wife and start a family. I wasn't going to rush him. His career is so important to him and being around music makes him happy. Don't get me wrong. I'm incredibly ecstatic that he _did_ propose, but I expected it to be a few more years down the road.

And I would have waited forever for him.

"Mom, those are things Yama and I need to discuss. Can we just make a list of everything we—and those who are helping out—will need to do?"

She immediately understood. "You're right. We all can give our ideas; but ultimately, it is up to the two of you." She tore off the piece of paper from the top, beginning to write down some thoughts on the blank sheet. "You need a date, a place, time for both the ceremony and the engagement party…"

"…and we're back with The Wolves. Okay, it's time for the question that's been plaguing everyone's mind. Yamato, are you and Sora engaged?"

I reached over to the turn up the volume, completely forgetting everything Mom had just said. I could see her smiling reflection in the mirror and knew she wanted to hear this as well. The blond gave the world a dashing smile. "Yes, we are."

"Did you feel you are ready? Is that why you proposed?" The reporter obviously had two different sets of questions ready depending on the answer Yama had given.

"I can't see myself with anyone but Sora. It just seems like it's time."

"So are you going to quit the band now?" the reporter continued to throw questions at him.

Yamato's grin turned to a glare. "Just because I'm going to get married—not for at least a year—doesn't mean I'm quitting the band. These three," he gestured to Akira, Takashi and Yutaka, all of whom looked very amused, "are some of the best friends I ever had. We love making music and sending it out to you guys; I know I'm not quitting, and from what I know none of the rest of the band is quitting. We're going to be around for a long time. So sorry to anyone who was hoping I'd say otherwise; you're stuck with me—and with us, The Wolves—for a long time."

I could tell the reporter hadn't been expecting an answer like that. He was probably expecting Yamato to take a snipe at him or blow a fuse, igniting some bad press to join the recently confirmed news of his ex-bachelorhood. The reporter was looking for dirt and apparently not done digging. "But what will your fanbase say?"

It didn't faze Yama a bit. "If they truly are as devoted to us as they say, they shouldn't care about relationship status. We're going to keep performing music and hope the fans join us for the ride. And hey, there are three very eligible and looking bachelors here next to me."

All the people in the studio were impressed with his answer. I could hear some light chuckles escape in the background and knew what Yamato was thinking right now.

He had survived.

Mom grinned at me, and I turned to see her writing some more down. "You really did snag yourself quite some guy." She turned the volume down as the band began to perform their latest chart topping single, a sign the show was at its conclusion. "Now that we've had our…entertainment…though, we'll need to get to work. Do you have a preference on what color kimonos I make you? And do you or Yamato have any qualms should I go ahead and contact a Shinto priest to see…"

"Wait, Shinto priest?"

Mom's excited gaze dimmed just a bit. "Yes, Sora. Did you assume otherwise? For the past generation and a half, all marriages on the Takenouchi side have been performed traditionally."

That's not exactly how I envisioned things. "But what about Yamato's family? Why should we jump to conclusions that he would want a Shinto wedding? And what about me? Don't I get some say in it?"

"Of course you do, sweetie. But I naturally assumed you'd like the traditional path to the altar."

That was a seemingly paradoxical statement. It was true; I did appreciate my traditional Japanese much more than any of my friends. Hadn't I been the one attempting to go to prom in a kimono rather than a dress? But those Christian-style weddings, the type with the wedding dresses, church ceremonies and other events seemed kind of appealing.

And while I was on that subject, who am I to forget about the western ties Yamato and I experienced when touring America? We were fortunate to be guests at another singer's wedding. It was a lavish affair, held in the backyard garden of her multimillion dollar estate. How could I forget the number of attendants, orchard of flowers and ceremony we experienced there? Yamato and I were both equally impressed with what we saw.

There are so many buts and exceptions for each of the styles. At the moment, I can't say what I want or what Yama would think. "Mom, I know I usually think traditional, but I can see some very good points coming with the Christian-esque wedding. Truthfully, I don't know what to think right now. Of course this is something Yamato and I need to discuss; and you know we'll listen to everyone's opinions," I hastily added, seeing the look on her face, "but it's something cloudy right now. I know neither Yamato nor I want to feel obligated to do something just because it's tradition. Do you understand where I'm coming from?"

"To an extent," she sighed after a brief increment of silence. "But, Sora, I really do hope you consider my stance as well. I can remember taking you to my sister's wedding and the look on your face throughout it all."

Here comes the guilt trip.

"You wouldn't stop babbling about how much you liked everything and how you wanted your wedding to be just like it. And it would make your grandparents so happy…"

"It's something that needs to be considered."

She bit her lip in apparent frustration. "Alright. Tell you what; how about we each make a list of the things needed for the two wedding types? I'll cover the traditional while you breach on the western style. We'll share our notes in a half an hour…"

"…dresses, tuxedos, wedding shower, engagement party, invitations, thank yous, guest lists, food for the after party, music, booking hotel rooms for the guests, decorating, flowers—though we should be able to handle that—and other parties that are associated with it, and honeymoon." I finished reading off my list, aware that Mom wasn't too thrilled with the more western traditions I had listed, in addition to the normal, simpler ones these weddings have here in Japan. "That's all I can think of right now."

"Did someone say something about a honeymoon? Because I request somewhere far, far away from Taichi."

We looked up, hearing another voice enter the room. "Back so soon? Did the reporters get sick and tired of you?'

"I think it was the other way around," Yamato leaned down, and I felt what seemed like tissue paper rub against my neck. "How much for the rose, Mrs. T?"

"If you give it to my daughter, then it's free, Yamato." Mom, thankfully, forgot about our little debate for the time being. Thank goodness.

He pouted. "Damn it; how much do I owe you then?"

"It's good to see you again," Mom gave him a hug amidst her light laughter, and he kissed her on the cheek. "It's great to be back home, Mrs…"

"Oh, just call me, Mom, Yamato. You're going to one of these days."

He beamed at me, obviously touched by her words. "So what were the two of you up to?"

"Making a list of everything that needs to be planned for the wedding." I replied quickly, hoping Mom would forget about the conversation we were having before he showed up. She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, and I knew that it temporarily would cease. "I think everyone else is more excited than we are."

"It appears that way,"

"And we watched your interview on TV while we were discussing things."

The blond rolled his eyes. "You were lucky you didn't come, Sor. The people at all them were so annoying."

I don't go to every interview or publicity outing with them. Usually, if I'm not there, I'm out scouting for some sort of thing. Today the guys forced me to go home so I could catch up with my parents and so I could avoid the spotlight.

Yama's protective gene is starting to rub off.

Mom looked up at the clock and over to the two of us. "Are you hungry?"

"Now that you mention it, Mrs. T…sorry; I'll work on it."

I laughed at Yamato's cute expression. "Anything sounds fine, Mom. We've missed your cooking on the road."

She smiled at the compliment as she turned toward the kitchen. "Well, I'll go start a large pot of rice and some vegetables."

The lone male's eyes sparkled. He and Taichi always love eating with my family. Tai's mom still cannot cook, and Yamato gets tired of the carry-out we constantly eat on the road. "You are awesome…Mom…"

* * *

"I'd like to propose a toast!" Taichi yelled across the room, banging on the table like the uncivilized caveman he can be. "Quiet everyone!"

How do we spend our day off? Normally we do something peaceful and relaxing that clearly defines the name "day off". But today, we're not relaxing on a beach, shopping, sleeping or anything else like that. We're surrounded by all our closest friends and family at the hotel conference room, bombarded by questions concerning our engagement.

Not much of a vacation.

"To my two best friends, Yamato and Sora. Well, it's about damn time! All the little people back home were wondering when you guys would get hitched. We're all very happy for you, and we'll be there to help out. And my help comes at a very reasonable price. I'll help out for free if you, in turn, name your first kid Taichi or some variation of my name. It's the perfect trade."

Everyone, particularly Yamato and I, could tell he was joking around—or becoming drunk—but that didn't stop bewildered looks from taking shape on our faces.

"Okay, even if you _won't _name your first kid—whenever you two decide to have children—after me, I'll still help you out. _For a price._ But anyhow, to my two best friends! Congratulations!"

We all raised whatever drink was closest to us and took a sip. People slowly began to return to what they'd been doing. I raised an eyebrow at the blonde's face.

"What?"

"Can we go yet?" he whined.

"Sweetie, this party's _for_ the guys and us. We can't just get up and leave. And where would be go anyway; we're in the hotel we're staying at."

He scooted closer to me, husky voice sending shivers throughout my entire body. I hate it when he tortures me like this. And he knows it too. "We'd nick some of this champagne and then head back to my room to try out the hot tub."

Hmmm…tantalizing offer. "As utterly fantastic as that sounds, I don't think…"

"You're here for how many days, and you don't even say hi to your own brother? I thought I meant more to you than that."

Yamato stood up, all thoughts of sneaking off vanished at the sight of Takeru. The two are very close and don't get to see each other near enough. "I guess if I _must_ talk to you."

"You can just ignore me," his younger brother sarcastically replied. "I'll just go talk to my future sister." He beamed at me. I know she cares about me more than you do."

The rock star rolled his eyes. "I suppose I can willingly talk to you then."

"What about me?"

"Hikari! I rose to my full height and pulled the younger girl in for a hug. "How are you?"

"I'm great! And I'm so happy for you, Sor! You're getting married!" Her enthusiasm was contagious as a large smile grew on my face. "Oh, this is my boyfriend Willis. I don't know if you have met him, with the exception of you, Keru."

At the mention of Willis's name, Takeru's face fell slightly but he cleared his face of any negative emotion a split second later. He is just like his brother. Too bad he hasn't gotten the girl yet.

"It's nice to meet you," he shook both Yamato's hand and my own. The boy was cute; there was no denying it, but looks don't mean much. Willis had to be intelligent and kind in order for Kari to stay with him for as long as she had. But still, I'm cheering for Takeru.

Mimi, Tracey, Taichi and Koushiro joined our group as well. Seeing that we were with our friends and that basically every single person there had already stopped to confirm the rumors, not believing Yamato's interview or just wanting verification, we were left alone to catch up. It's nice that some people are smarter than the lot of them appear.

"Okay, one of you spill what happened." Mimi demanded after I heard nearly ten minutes worth of squeals and girlish giggles because: "You're getting married! You're going to be a wife! We get to plan a wedding…and the bachelorette party! I can't wait!"

"Turn on a TV and pick a channel. I'm sure you'll find out what happened."

Koushiro raised his eyebrows in my fiancé's direction. "I think she means how you proposed and what happened."

"We'll consider it,"

"Did he serenade you?" Kari wondered.

Takeru shook his head. "Lead you to a bed of roses?"

"Yamato wouldn't do that," Tracey said knowingly. "I bet he stuck the ring in something you were going to eat. Classic but sweet…no?"

They were firing off responses as fast as Taichi eats things. Yamato and I had no chance to butt in and correct them, not that either of us would should we gain the chance.

"Well, you all are missing the obvious," Taichi chimed in, boldly proclaiming his statement like one of those evangelist preachers. "He ripped off a corny line from some song or movie, claimed it was his, told her he couldn't live without her and BEGGED her to say yes."

"Can we please get out of here?"

"We'll try out the hot tub the minute these guys leave." I murmured back.

His eyes lit up. "You promise?"

"Sealed with a kiss," Our lips met lightly, and I was glad to hear the others groaning in the background. Glad they still know we're here while they gossip about us.

"Now go ahead and talk," the blue-eyed Romeo pushed me forward. "The sooner we tell them, the sooner they leave. And the sooner they leave, the sooner we get to go to the hot tub…"

* * *

I was making my rounds, checking to make sure everything had been loaded. The guys were beginning to board the bus, but I felt Yamato's presence behind me. "Yes, blondie?"

He smirked at me. "I have a present for you."

"What would that be?" my feet turned around, making my body face his.

"It's my annual surprise for you." It had become a common occurrence. Normally I don't stick with the band when they get to a certain place. I'll fly out to another city, state or country to scope out our next venue and make sure all preparations are in line. I'll always rejoin them the last night we're there, and Yamato makes it a habit to buy me something—usually jewelry—from the country or continent we're in as a keepsake. "Close your eyes."

"Why?" I demanded, shutting them nonetheless.

"Because I said so." I heard some shuffling and assumed he was getting the gift ready. "Okay, open up your eyes."

He wasn't standing in front of me anymore. I stood confused for a moment before I caught sight of him on the ground, a box in his hand pointing up at me. "Yama…wha…oh my God…"

"I bet you're expecting some corny line or cheesy clichéd crap, but truthfully, I'm just going by the moment here. Sora, I love you so much and want to be with you till the end. Marriage is a big jump, but I know that we can handle it together. Enough with all the romantic words though…will you marry me?"

I looked at him, kneeling on the ground before me, my vision of him somewhat blurred by the salty tears forming in my eyes. I tried to open my mouth to reply but absolutely nothing would come out. I was like a mime, unable to speak.

So I simply nodded over and over.

He slipped the gigantic diamond ring onto my finger before standing up and kissing me. "Of…course…I'll…marry you…Ya...ma…" I panted through the time stopping kiss we shared. "I love you too."

We climbed into the bus moments later, greeted by cheering and corks flying off bottles of champagne and this enormous supply of liquor. "Now we have an excuse to get drunk!" Takashi gleefully cried out, shoving large glasses of alcohol into each of our hands.

"Congratulations you two!" Akira called out. "So, how'd blondie propose?"

Yutaka grinned at us as the bus pulled out of the lot. "I bet it was something he'd been rehearsing for a long time."

They shouted out all sorts of ideas, increasingly more humorous as the alcohol supply got thinner.

It was, by far, the most fun the five of us had ever had. We continued to celebrate, get completely and totally hammered, laugh and talk until we got on our airplane headed for home, entirely unaware the press had caught Yamato proposing.

* * *

"Awe," Tracey sighed. "That's adorable."

Taichi laughed. "I would've liked to be on that bus."

Hikari groaned at his comment. "Why does that not surprise me, big brother?"

"Sora?"

"Yes, Mimi?"

"Can we see your ring? You didn't have it on when we met you at the airport on Tuesday."

Knowing they wouldn't let me go till then, I pulled the ring out of my purse. I'd had it on but took it off when Mom asked me to help her cut some dessert.

"Oh my God!" Guess who shrieked that.

Mimi's mouth was as big as the diamond. "Jeez, Yamato, are you out of money now?"

"How do you not collapse under all that weight?" Takeru wanted to know.

"I think it's cute. Nice pick, Yama." Hikari earnestly lauded.

At least one of our friends is sane.

Koushiro laughed out loud. "It's prodigious! Did you actually go buy it, Yamato?"

"No," the older blond shook his head. "I found what one I liked online, and Takuya volunteered to pick it up for me. It worked out better that…what?"

Yama had caught Tai's roguish grin. "Did you take a hunk out of the iceberg from that movie _Titanic _and put it on top of the ring?"

"Can we leave _now_?"

I smirked. "Now seems like a good time…"

A/N: I don't own Titanic! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I really, really want to hear what you think about things and any ideas you have regarding the wedding. This dealing with the preparations and planning pick up next chapter. I have plenty of ideas and basically the whole story planned out, but I would love to hear any requests or thoughts you guys have. They might just find their way into the story. I apologize for the long wait, guys. Things are hectic, and they're only going to get crazier. I have a gigantic stack of college applications piling up that I haven't even looked at.

Please review :grins: Reviews make me happy!


	3. Did Someone Say Party?

Going to the Chapel

By theladyknight

Disclaimer: Digimon—not mine!

**_Chiban-chan:_**Don't count Takeru out. That's all I'm saying…

**_Inconnu:_**_ I've never been blamed for lack of sleep before. Ha, I wonder if __Paris__ gave the ring back to __Paris__, considering the wedding is apparently off…_

**_Starfish:_**_ I'm pretty sure there's some other wilkari's out there; you just have to actually look for them._

**_Nickygirl:_**_ Poof is good for weddings. One of my friends had a poofy dress for prom, and she could almost drown in it. Ha…college applications? Well, I sent one in so far…_

**_Emily-is-strange:_**_ Your idea is exactly what I have in mind._

**_SaffireStarz:_**_ So how did you anticipate Yamato proposing?_

**_Trio Wing:_**_ Hot tubs are awesome, unless there's a question on your Literature test referring to some character who got stuck in a hot tub and you're completely confused. Happened to me just the other day…long story there…_

And thanks to: **_blondie121147, Yume-dream, outxofxemotions, Eiliriel, Only Secret, anxious, Ballet Kitty, scorpion05, Kuroi Black Nightingale, Wishinstahhz, Calare, _**and **_JyouraKoumi._**

Chapter 3: Did Someone Say Party?

**: 3 Months later August 2010:**

"Of course, Atsuki-san. The band is very pleased you asked them to perform at the charity function. We will arrive on the seventeenth and meet you at the airport around three thirty. Thank you; have a nice day."

One phone call done, nearly ten more to return.

Life as a band manager is not easy. I would never say it was easy either. From the moment I started at this career a few years ago, I learned that the hard way. Everyone would think this is such a glamorous, easy job. I mean, look at the way the media portrays the rock star kind of life: sex, drugs and rock and roll.

Too bad they've got some high false image.

There's a lot of work that goes into planning things. While the guys are busy in the studio or just relaxing with a jam session, attempting to come up with new music—though I don't think they do a lot of working some of the time—I am stuck in my office. I've come to hate the mauve paint on the wall and would like nothing more than to chip it all away. My pens have all been chewed on in my more frantic of moments. Papers are organized and sorted by color, each color representing a different aspect of the band.

I've never been a really organized person. Takuya taught me that trick, though, the moment I began my apprenticeship. Color coding and planners are the best friends you will ever have in the world. There's so much that's required of me, so much one would never imagine existed.

Take today, for instance. In the past three and a half hours, I've scheduled one charity event, arranged two radio interviews, booked three weeks of hotel rooms and entered four new cities onto The Wolves' tour in six months.

I'm a beast I tell you.

But, that's only the business aspect of things. Mom has called me three times with wedding ideas, all revolving around her traditional Shinto plans. Mimi and Tracey have called me on hourly intervals—each rotating with the hour—about genius inspirations they have gotten. Yamato's mom e-mailed me regarding our engagement party next weekend. Apparently the place we chose to have it can't hold all the people we've invited. So I have to work on that too. And to top it off, Taichi text messaged me because he was bored and expected me to respond, even though I was in the middle of a very important web meeting with Takuya.

All this talk of planning our wedding—though Yamato and I haven't come close to deciding on a date—is starting to drive me insane! But we're fairly sure it's not going to be until at least a year or so from now. Imagine how crazy I'm going to be by then. Yama's not going to want to marry me then. He's going to think I'm some psychotic freak, drove insane by all this planning and organizing I have to do. But I'm going to blame it all on my friends and family. Yes, they're going to take the complete and total blame.

I know we asked for everyone's help, but it's really irritating when they'll just randomly call you up with this awesome suggestion. I think Tracey has a detailed list of every single thing she can think of for the wedding, down to the intricate designs on the kimono I may be wearing. And if we decide to go with a Western style wedding, she has this poofy gown picked out in reserve.

At first I was really looking forward to planning this and all, but now I dread thinking about it each day. It's starting to get on my nerves already. Will I even want to get married by the time there's only a month left till the actual day? I never thought planning a wedding could be so stressful. Actually, it probably wouldn't be so bad if I wasn't trying to juggle the whole managing the band gig and this on the same hand, twenty-four seven. Girls aren't supposed to work under these conditions.

I'll be the first to admit I haven't been my normal self lately. I've been a lot more sarcastic and cynical, even to the point of rude according to the guys. All these feelings of being overworked and frazzled are starting to get to me. I'm like the pop inside a glass bottle that's been shaken over and over, ready to explode when some unknowing person takes the lid off. Is it even legal for someone to be under this much stress?

I hit my head against my oak desk, knowing it was going to leave a red mark on my forehead. But I didn't care. This afternoon isn't looking any better, either. There's, unfortunately, no time for a break. I'd love to take some time off, but then I would be letting everyone down and not pulling my share. I knew what I was getting into when I signed onto this. Now I just have to deal with it.

And I can't let the paparazzi see me in this state. They're still hung up on the fact that Yamato Ishida is taken. Hello, there are other stories more important than our love life. They certainly didn't spend this much time talking about Demi and Ashton or Jennifer and Brad back in the day they were making headlines. With those other celebrities, it was like they made the news for a few weeks, maybe a month but with a little break in between. Our story is constant daily, always with some sort of new development.

And it's staring to drive us all mad!

"Okay, you need to find a nice comfy bed with a huge fluffy pillow, take a couple handfuls of sleeping pills and get some rest, Sor. I think it will do you a lot of good."

I glared at the blond who was slowly massaging my tired neck. He had entered the room, unbeknownst to me, while I was raging in my soliloquy of thoughts. And I had a feeling it would be a long time before he left.

"Go away," I groaned, lowering my head back to the desk.

He gave my neck a light squeeze before stopping the massage and taking a seat in the black leather chair on the other side of the desk. "What's wrong? Talk to me."

"Go away,"

"Is it the band or the wedding? Come on; you know you want to tell me."

We both knew that and that no matter how many times I protested, I really didn't want him to leave and he wouldn't exit the room. "It's everything. I can survive one at a time but the two together are worse than hell freezing over."

"Then just concentrate on one, preferably the band. Sor, we have no idea when the wedding is going to be, other than sometime next year. Sure I'm thinking about it, but it's kind of hiding in the back corner of my mind at the moment."

"It would've been resting back there, but everyone keeps calling me with ideas and stuff. It's getting so annoying. And Mom's getting really anxious about us deciding what kind of wedding we want to have."

He raised an eyebrow. "There's more than one kind of wedding?"

"Traditional or Western."

"Oh," His mouth looked like it belonged on a goldfish. "I see the predicament. Well, I've got a suggestion."

"What's that? Elope and get all this crap out of the way?" I was kidding, and I hope he saw through my weak joke.

"If that's the case we're going to need to get a lot of alcohol and hire one of those corny Elvis impersonators." He joked right back. "No, the guys and I decided to take a break so we could get in some naps. How about you and I make up a list of the things that we want? Then you call up our pilot to fly you back home for a week or so in order to get these things figured out. You can work on the band and this stuff—it'll be easy to do both because you'll be in such close contact with Takuya and all our crazy friends."

"I don't know about the whole flying back thing, but I agree with your other idea. Your one good idea of the year."

"There's the Sora I know and love. But trust me, even if I have to pack all your clothes for you, you will end up being on a plane home…"

* * *

"I didn't think you were serious about the packing thing."

Yamato shrugged, handing me two overstuffed duffle bags. "What's all in here? Your vast supply of hair gel?"

He gave me the most innocent look he could muster. "I didn't know what to pack. I think I threw in a little bit of everything."

"Great…I'll force myself to stay inside all week, in that case."

"Well, if nothing else, I do know that you'll have a nice selection of lingerie to choose from…Ouch!"

My face burned as I slapped him on the arm. "That was a little uncalled for."

"Do I look like I care?" He pushed me towards the direction of the plane. "Now go on. Say hi to everyone and tell them I'll meet up with them right away."

"Obviously you will because we kind of have our Engagement Party next week."

He smirked at me, planting a firm, possessive kiss on my lips. "Be good; don't go ripping anyone's hair out or hurting any of our friends."

"That was uncalled for too. Maybe I should go so I can get away from you."

"You know you'll miss me."

"Barely,"

I pulled him down to me once more, giving him a sweet goodbye kiss. The rest of the band came over and after a handful of goodbyes, I was off—reluctantly—for Odaiba.

I knew the plane ride from Kyoto wouldn't be long, but I had some things to organize in the meantime. Yamato and I had discussed a lot and come to a few conclusions on what all we could do, none of them set in stone, though. And I would have a fun time trying to explain everything to the others.

We'd broken everything into organized lists and went from there by priority. Nothing was permanent, but it made me feel a lot better to have stuff somewhat taken care of.

Number one: what kind of wedding we want to have.

It seemed like Yama and I were both leaning towards the same idea. We had both grown up with at least one traditional Japanese parent hovering in our lives, both cases being our mothers. They'd immediately told us how delighted they'd be when we asked a Shinto priest to perform the ceremony.

Pleasing the parents is always a good thing, considering how long they have put up with us, but they have to keep in mind that we are adults. And the little fact that it happens to be our wedding.

There were certain elements of the Shinto wedding we liked. I knew there were things from it that had to be there for it to seem like a wedding to both Yamato and me. But at the same time, after spending a good deal of time in America and some of the western countries, we got a feel for another type of wedding style. We had both assimilated our tastes and likes. Touring around and taking in different cultures has refined some of our tastes. I feel more balanced, truthfully. It's like I have discovered some of the things hidden inside of me that I've always wondered about.

We both were pretty content with the idea of a wedding party and their attire. Our singer friend wore this huge ball of poof to her wedding, and quite honestly, I kind of fell in love with the mentality of it. How cool would it be to wear something like that for a few hours. Not too long. Just a few hours. But at the same time, ever since I was a little kid, I've dreamed of wearing an elaborately designed kimono that my mother made for me. That kind of puts me in a bind.

Yamato came up with the solution. "Why don't we get decked out in the Western style for the actual wedding, blending in a few traditional aspects? Then at the reception, we can change into our dress kimonos and more comfortable clothes."

His suggestion, the most obvious choice for blending the two cultures, proved to be the answer we were looking for. We'd have to sit down—much later—and make a more detailed list of things we would adapt from each.

After I convinced our parents and friends that this is what we wanted.

Number two: the date.

It's probably only one of the more important and necessary items of any wedding, but we pooled some ideas together. Every one of our friends began shouting out random dates from the moment we became engaged.

This was our primary goal. If we could figure out when we wanted the wedding to be, we would be able to know a timeline for when other things had to be figured out. It would give us some breathing room and make it easier on all of us. The only bad thing about choosing the date was trying to set a permanent date and, upon doing so, keeping it from the press.

We debated and argued. Neither of us was really certain on when we wanted to have it. He and I narrowed our field of choices down to a period of six months. Further debating—our yelling got so loud that we attracted the attention of the rest of the band—moved the cut to the summer months.

And finally, as neither Yamato nor I had a set date in which we were adamant about, we consulted our planner, looking for some Saturday night with no performances scheduled or amid a tour. Our choices came down to June 2 or August 27. June seemed so early. I mean, it's less than a year from now. Would we even be ready? And it was right before the guys' big "Unlimited" tour came out, ready to promote their soon-to-be new cd. Would it really be wise to have the wedding and honeymoon amid the chaos?

So that left us with August 27. The tour would wrap up for a two week break along that time, though there were various intervals and days slotted for entertainments. The day appeared perfect; we could hold everything then. Take a quick two-day honeymoon somewhere relaxing and peaceful. Maybe Hawaii? Or Australia would be cool. How about England? Maybe France? Mexico? Okay, I'm getting ahead of myself. That's something we'll discuss later.

Apparently, though, August 27 is now our running date. Sure, we have to check it over with the others, but it's the date that just looks like it'll work. There's no romantic significance, no hidden meaning, no symbolic reference. It's just the day that works. But, if we do have the wedding on that Saturday, it will be a day of all those things.

I'm getting way to into this.

Now I just have to find a way to explain this to everyone else…

* * *

"So how did you three end up with this job?"

"Yamato forced me into it," Takeru grumbled from the driver's seat. "He seems to think I can do whatever he asks of me whenever. Nothing's changed since we were younger."

Takeru was being overly sarcastic, but I knew it was all in a joking manner. He and Yama got along better than any siblings I've ever met. Seriously, it's not supposed to be legal for two brothers to get along so well. But that didn't stop either of them for cracking jokes at the other's expense quite often.

"I'll make sure he gets you a really nice birthday present. Maybe he'll get you a new car or something like that. This thing looks ready to fall apart."

"Actually," a voice from the backseat piped up, "this is my car."

My cheeks were as red as my hair as Takeru did everything he could not to laugh. Willis and Kari were sitting in the back seat—for what reason I had yet to find out—and the other blond looked pretty offended at my comment. "I'm sorry; I was just…"

I saw Kari mouth the words "don't dig yourself into a deeper hole" in the review mirror and decided to change the subject.

As fast humanly possible.

"So why am I graced with the honor of your guys' presence as well? Did you miss me as much as Takeru did—but won't admit?"

"He's dropping us off at the southern end of the airport so we can get on a flight back to my hometown to visit my parents."

Willis still isn't too happy with me from the looks of things. Hikari nudged him playfully. "Takeru decided he'd be nice enough and not make us walk."

"What'd they have to pay you?" I questioned the driver.

"I did it out of the goodness of my little heart," he sarcastically mumbled, at this time, it was very evident that he purposely said that. The air in the car was thick. The tension was higher than Taichi's plate full of food anytime we went to a buffet.

"Isn't this your spot?"

Kari gave me a thankful look. "Yes it is. Willis, we'd better hurry so we don't miss our flight. Takeru, can you tell my mom that I'll call her the minute we get to Will's parents' place?"

He only responded with a nod, probably not trusting himself to speak. But I didn't blame him. I could see through everything and was pretty amazed the others couldn't.

"Have fun you two. It was nice catching up with you both again." I politely greeted, hoping to make amends with the blond. He didn't say anything to me but waved in Takeru's direction. We waited until they had gotten their bags and began to head towards the main doors.

"That was one of the most awkward moments in my life."

"I think you're being a little too dramatic." Takeru put the car in drive, heading out the exit ramp and back towards Odaiba.

I shook my head indignantly. "The only time that even comes close to that is when the band decided they needed an extra practice session, and they kind of walked in on your brother and me…"

"Too much information!" He removed his hands from the wheel for a brief second, covering his ears. "You just corrupted my innocent mind."

My face now rivaled some ripe tomatoes, ready to be made into ketchup. "We weren't doing _that._ We hadn't gotten that far."

"I don't even want to know about your sex life with my brother, Sor. I love you to death, but there's a line. And don't even think about crossing it."

"I'm just going to change the subject and pretend I never mentioned it. Sound good?"

"Sounds great. So what do you want to talk about?"

"You and Hikari,"

He accidentally stomped on the break, jerking us both forward, his body hitting the horn and causing it to blast at a car going the other direction. Takeru quickly regained control and glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. "There's nothing between Kari and me. She's been with Willis for half a year. They're happy together."

"But are you happy for them?" I provoked.

"If Kari's happy, than so am I. I'll admit I was always hoping we'd turn out the same as you and Yama. I mean, our story is so similar it's scary. But…something never click. She never saw me in the same light that I saw her. I've tried dating others, but they're just not the same as she is. She gets me better than anyone. It's just the way it is."

His pure unconditional love for her shone through, and I wanted nothing more than to record that conversation and play it for Kari. I put my hand on my future brother-in-law's arm. "Don't give up hope, Takeru. Sitting here now, I just felt there was something missing from their relationship, something that's going to take Hikari a little while to realize. From what I've been told, Willis is a great guy. But sometimes great guys fall for the wrong girls and great girls fall for the wrong great guy. If it was meant to work out, Takeru, it will. You may just have to give it some more time. I probably would tell anyone else to get over their feelings, because usually, pining away will do no good. But you're a special case. I know what you feel for Hikari is true. It's not some confused case of feelings. If you two are destined to be together, which I'm pretty sure is the case, something will bring you together. It's just a matter of time..."

* * *

"I call this meeting of W.O.W. to order."

I stared at Mimi and Tracey curiously, having no idea what they were talking about. "Okay, does one of you want to fill me in on what's going on because I'm pretty sure I'm lost."

Mom, Natsuko Takaishi, Tracey, Mimi and I were all gathered in the backroom of Mom's flower shop, enjoying some tea and, apparently, present for a meeting of W.O.W., whatever that is. "W.O.W. stands for Working On the Wedding, silly!" Mimi exclaimed. "We're going to get a lot of things done today. All of us took off some time from our busy schedules so we could help."

"And we didn't invite any of the guys because, well, face it, do you really think they know a lot about planning a wedding?" Natsuko shrugged her shoulders at her comment.

"Well, Yamato did…"

Tracey rolled her eyes. "Taichi wanted to come so badly. I had to do everything I could to get him to stay at his apartment."

"Koushiro would have run screaming in the other direction if I asked him to come. He wants to be involved but not plan things."

Mom refilled all our glasses with some green tea. "Haruhiko insisted that I write everything down in outline form and give it to him to study. Honestly, he never takes a break from his teacher mode, even for his only child's wedding."

"Hiroaki called me the other night and just asked that we not rack up too high a bill."

So much for W.O.W. This had turned into a gossip party with these crazy women around me doing all the talking. I couldn't get in a word about anything around them. The subject started with boyfriends and husbands, drifting towards the love triangle of Takeru, Hikari and Willis, finally settling—a good two hours later—on the wedding.

But did I get a say in anything?

"The kimono should be pale blue with some blue, purple and pink flowers on it," Natsuko insisted.

"I know this great Shinto priest," Mom tried to switch the subject. "He performed all these weddings on my mother's side of the family…"

"…what colors should our kimonos be?"

"Do you think I should find a pink one or would it be too much?"

Hell no.

"Hey, guys!" I yelled out. Nothing. "Guys! WOULD YOU ALL STOP TALKING?"

I'm sure Yamato heard me in Kyoto. At least my call succeeded in doing what I wanted it to. The four women around me ceased their conversations, all focusing their attention on me and what I had to say.

It was about damn time.

"I don't want to sound all bitchy, but do I get some sort of say on what's going on? Yama and I talked about some things, and I'd like to share them all with you guys." They all looked at me like I was crazy. Too bad they have no idea how they look. "Yamato and I chose a date or at least we have an idea for one."

"Did you pick my birthday?"

"You chose your grandfather's death date, right?"

"Hiroaki's going to be so happy!"

"How soon is it?"

"Can you all calm down?" I cried out. My temper was like a storm that was slowly growing in strength and ferocity. I was a tiger ready to attack my prey. They have absolutely no idea that they are driving me to a mental institute with every word they say. These four are like wedding czars. Why couldn't they let the guys be here? Or Kari at least? She would have tried to keep them in line. Do they not realize it's _my_ wedding, and Yamato and I have some say in it? "We didn't select any of those dates. We couldn't really find one that held a lot of significance the way it is. So we decided to make a day mean something. And the date has to agree with our schedule, so we're not overwhelmed. August 27, 2011 is what we came up with."

The whole room was dead silent. It was quieter than a funeral home. In all my life and in the rest of my life, I would never hear Mimi and Tracey silent for such a long time.

Suddenly, though…

"Oh my God! It's so cute how you guys are going to make a new memory." Tracey gushed.

Mimi's pink curls bounced as she enthusiastically nodded her head. "I agree. And summer weddings are so totally in. There's so much you can do with them."

I really need to find some new friends.

"That's an important step, honey. I think it's a good idea to have things separate from any other day. It'll mean more to you in the future if that's the case. We'll check our schedules to make sure it works, but I think it's a good idea to have." Mom wrapped her arm around me.

"And if nothing else," Natsuko pointed out, "it's not a date that'll draw the paparazzi's attention. They'll be calculating a bunch of things, trying to figure out the date. If it's something kind of unexpected, then you have a better chance of fooling them."

I definitely had to agree with her. I mean, the paparazzi is bad enough on a day to day basis. Look at all the damage they did and do to celebrity weddings: Britney and Kevin, Brad and Jennifer—obviously before they split—and all their other rumors about who is supposedly getting married. Seriously, there are some things that need to be kept quiet. A wedding is more of a private affair in a sense that it's for people you _know_. I can't exactly say I want millions of people watching me say "I do" to Yamato, particularly with a bunch of cameras in the background. Can't say I'm up for the whole _Bachelor_ thing where the girl and guy invited the world to watch their wedding years ago. That's not my cup of tea, and I know Yama would wholeheartedly agree.

One issue out of the way, though. They took it better than I thought. The easy one is out of the way. Now it's time for the big one.

"And Yama and I came to one other really important decision."

They wouldn't pay an inkling of attention to me before but now they were all eyes, as if I had said that if they paid perfect attention to me, I'd reward them with a million dollars each. Dream on, ladies. "What is it, Sor?"

Deep breath. This probably won't get the same reaction as the other. "We've decided what kind of wedding we want." No one said anything, and I knew they were all waiting for my words. "We want to combine a lot of the elements of a traditional Shinto wedding with that of a Western Christian wedding." I looked around; no reaction. I better keep talking before they can say anything. "We both grew up surrounded by our Japanese roots, and words can't say how important they are to us. But we've also experienced so much traveling around and touring. The other cultures and traditions have slowly been blending into us as well. It just wouldn't be right not to include both."

Did they not hear me or something? There was no reaction from anyone. This really isn't the way I planned it. I was expecting to have my head ripped off while getting yelled at. "Sora, if that's the way you and Yamato want things, we really cannot argue with you. You are adults, well suited to make your own decisions." Natsuko was the first to regain her voice. "I don't know if the idea of a wedding like that really appeals to me, but I have a feeling it will grow on me the more I think about it. And I will do whatever I can to help you out."

I changed my mind: there is _one_ sane person in this room besides me!

"It's really hard to see this with you, Sor." Tracey mused. "You were the one who wanted to be all traditional for that prom thing. But as you said, you guys have seen a lot since going off with The Wolves. I think it's cool that this is what you want to do. And imagine what we can do with this. You'll be wearing one of those gigantic poofy dresses. And can't you see Yamato in a tux again? This is going to be so cool!"

Her support wasn't really unexpected. Tracey is good about seeing the good through the uncertain at all times. She can be a little pessimistic sometimes, but most of the time she means well. And this is one of them.

"Don't you have groomsmen and bridesmaids and stuff with the Christian weddings?" I nodded at Mimi's question. "This is going to be so fun to plan! I can see us all walking down the aisle in dresses and suits. And think of all the flowers that'll be surrounding us. And once you decide what kinds of traditional elements are going to be there, it'll be even neater. I think you should change into this really beautiful kimono sometime during the reception party."

Same idea I had, but I think I'll explain them to everyone once I've gotten Mom's opinion.

She had been silent, a far cry from the other three who were now all gossiping about the location of the wedding. I caught her eye, motioning for her to stand up and meet me by the door so we could talk away from the chattering crows.

"So?"

I couldn't read her eyes or expression. My mother was so good at hiding them when she wanted to. I had learned to decipher most people's masks, but to this day, I can't figure out my mother's.

"I understand that you're mad at me, Mom, but…"

"I'm not mad at you, Sora. I'm just a little disappointed you chose to have it this way. I can see where you're coming from, though. I just always assumed we would keep the tradition in our family. It's been that way for such a long time; it's a shame to see it end like that. Ever since you were born, I've been envisioning your wedding day. And when you finally found Yamato, I was certain he was the one. I could see things so clearly in my mind's eye: how stunning you'd look in a kimono, the creases on the Shinto priest's face, you and Yamato drinking the sake and all the other traditional things. It's going to be so hard to adjust to this new idea, but I will make an effort. Natsuko was right, Sora. It is your wedding. You and Yamato have the right to decide. And we will accept your choice."

I knew she wasn't intentionally sending me into a guilt trip. Mom would never do that. She was the one I got all my traditional things from. We both felt very strong ties to our roots and never wanted to forget them.

"Thank you, Mom. But keep in mind this won't be exactly like a Western wedding. Yama and I want to preserve as many of the Shinto traditions as we possibly can. No one will probably expect the way the wedding turns out, so we're going to have a lot of planning to do. And I want you to be involved as much as you can."

She smiled at me, wrapping me into a hug. "Of course, Sora. Don't expect any different." She released me, turning to the door now. "I'm going to go get some more green tea. We may need it, the rate this is going."

As she opened the door, she hit a bump. "Ouch!"

Mom and I glanced at each other, unsure of what was awaiting us on the other side of the door. Cautiously, she pushed it open again, revealing a pissed off Taichi. "What are you doing here?"

"Couldn't you warn me before you opened up the door?" He clutched his arm. "I'm going to have a bruise."

"Why are you out here?"

"Tracey wouldn't let me come; so I decided to come eavesdrop and figure out what was going to happen on my own…"

* * *

"I'm getting nervous."

Yamato rubbed my knee lightly. "We'll be fine, baby. Everyone here is just really excited."

I looked around the room we had booked for our engagement party. People littered the dance floor and tables, all talking amongst themselves. Or drinking. "And some are just flat-out hammered."

He pulled me closer to him. "They just are anxious to find out when the wedding's going to be."

"Even though we're not going to announce the date."

"They'll get over it. It'll just give them something to look forward to."

I caught Takuya's eye. "Yama, it's time."

We both shakily stood from the head table where we'd been sitting with our families and closest friends. The party had been kicking for the past few hours, and we promised everyone that we'd make an announcement at 11:45. And now, it's time.

Yamato led me up to the platform Takuya had set up the night before. It was five days since our meeting of W.O.W. Only a select handful of people, besides the ones present that day, knew what our plans were. Hikari had been informed immediately when she got back. I debated telling Willis, who apparently got over whatever grudge he had against me, but decided it was better not to. He'd find out eventually and show up if he and Hikari were still together.

If.

Takuya and the other three Wolves obviously knew. They were the first people I told, after giving Yamato the go ahead. After discovering Taichi, we let him into the meeting. He wasn't a lot of help, but he did succeed in keeping the mood light. Takeru, Koushiro, my father and Yamato's dad were the only other ones who found out. We want to keep things light for now. Keep things at a bare minimum. The longer we can protect things, the longer our secret is safe from the paparazzi.

"As promised, Yamato and Sora will be announcing some things everyone has been waiting for. Go ahead you two." Takuya grinned at us, handing me the microphone.

I stared out at the crowd of people, unsure of what to say. Yama gave me a reassuring nudge. Come on, Takenouchi. You can get through this. You only have to disappoint a hundred or so people. Piece of cake. "Um, Yama and I want to thank you all for coming here. It really means a lot to both of us. Well, as we promised, we're going to reveal a little bit about our wedding to you all gathered here today."

I paused and decided I'd said enough. Yamato looked a little disheveled as I handed him the microphone. He can be the bearer of bad news. He's the cute one; they won't mind it as much if it comes from him instead of me.

"As Sora said," he paused, trying to figure out what to say, "We have some things figured out. At the moment, we have an idea for the date." Faces became very anxious. "But we are choosing not to reveal it as of yet. It will be on the invitations, whenever they are sent out. We have our reasoning for doing this. I know you all were waiting to hear what we had to say about this, and I'm sorry we're kind of letting you down. But I can say that the wedding will be sometime before December of next year. And also, Sora and I have decided to hold a mixture of a Shinto wedding and Western style one based off some of our personal beliefs. I know we didn't give you guys a lot of solid information, but you will find out eventually. Despite all this, we'd really like to thank you guys for supporting us and standing through it all with us."

He lowered the microphone. Silence covered the air. But it ended as Taichi and Tracey began hollering and cheering enthusiastically. Yama grinned at me as the crowd below us joined in the applause. "KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!"

Our friends started up the chant and soon it was joined by everyone present. I looked at the blond. "Can't go up against that one."

"I think I'll have to agree."

We met in the middle in a sweet, semi-passionate kiss. His familiar lips nipped at mine, tasting the strawberry lip gloss on them as I could later taste it in his mouth. "Mmmh…love you." I mumbled as I ended the kiss.

"Love you too…"

The roller coaster ride had just started. With all this support, maybe things will start to be less overwhelming. Or, in typical fashion, I will have absolutely no idea what I've gotten myself into. I'm betting it'll be the latter. The next few months are going to be very interesting. So join us on the ride. It's just started. And we haven't even begun to hit the bumps or hills. Hang on; it'll be a wild ride…

A/N: Long chapter for how long it took me to get it out. Sorry about that. I'm hoping that I'll be back on some sort of schedule by November or December at the earliest. I'm trying my best people, keep that in mind. At the moment, I'm trying to condense Artistic Differences into a 5-6 page story for my Literature class, so that's taking up a lot of my time. We'll just have to see what happens. Thanks for the patience guys. Please review and let me know what you think. Now I gotta go leave for a college visit and tend to my injuries from soccer.

Until next time, here's a bit of a previewof next chapter. It's **The One with all the Dresses**…

Please review!


	4. The One with All the Dresses

Going to the Chapel

By theladyknight

Digimon—not mine!

**Thanks for all the reviews! The name of this chapter comes from the _Friends_ episode of the same name. Take a guess at what it was about. . .**

Chapter 4: The One with All the Dresses

**:November 2010:**

I refuse to believe anyone else on this subject. Millions of reasons have been thrown at me, but I can contradict every single one. Trust me on this one. I know what I'm talking about, and there's no point in arguing it.

Shopping is evil.

Now normally I don't loathe shopping as much as I do at this instance. But ever since becoming recognized, known as a somebody, it's been a continued downward plummet. The band's fame and my notoriety as their manager will outlive us all. It's impossible to go anywhere without getting shrieked at and chased after.

Okay, so maybe all this is more than fans' and paparazzis' doings. But there are other reasons, namely two, that only solidify my point:

With Mimi as a friend, there is no way you cannot leave someplace totally broke, painstakingly exhausted or never wanting to go back there again. I don't know how the madwoman does it. She can stay in one store for over an hour and never get sick of it. I've had to literally drag her out of the store because it was closing. She's usually not that insane about it unless there's a sale, thankfully. But she's been rubbing off on Tracey. What does that mean? Anytime the two are together, shopping becomes the pastime of choice and guess who else gets drug along when she's in town.

As for my other reason…internet shopping is completely out the window. I have absolutely no luck when it comes to buying things online. Sure, it's often convenient, particularly with the way fans freak out, but somehow the thing I order never turns out like what is on the screen. And it's still rather freaky when the plump, balding delivery man asks for your autograph because you're his "Pumpkin's" favorite celebrity.

So, therefore, I don't think anyone can argue with my whole _shopping is evil_ spiel. Shopping _is_ evil. Evil should be avoided. So Sora avoids shopping (and evil) as much as she can. I think it's a great philosophy to live by.

But considering the wedding date is slowly coming closer, heavy emphasis on the slowly, this is something that needs to be done. And the girls are making sure we do it. Now seems to be the perfect time, according to Tracey's planner.

It's still incredibly crazy that I actually agreed to set foot in a boutique or mall. But the precautionary measures I allowed them to perform take the cake. I don't know which of the women to blame this on. My gut is screaming Tracey and Mimi are _very_ responsible, but I would not count Mom out.

Yama wouldn't be able to identify me. Well…he probably would, knowing him. Actually, I don't know how anyone _can't_ recognize that it's me hiding behind this…garb. The other's say I'm fine and could pass as a regular person, but I still don't think so.

I now am a brunette, wearing a wig that surprisingly doesn't look fake. I guess the others decided to pool their money together for a more authentic look. My eyes are a shade of honey brown thanks to the contacts Mom bought at the Inoue's convenient store. And Mimi and Tracey have me dressed in such an un-Sora-like outfit that I can't even laugh about it.

But aside from that, I can still tell it's me. And I'm praying no one else can.

"Sor…Sasha, stop fussing in your shoes." Mom glared at me.

"They're a bit uncomfortable," I edgily replied, pointing to the heels they'd forced me into. Normally, I try to avoid these shoes at any cost, opting instead for funky, colorful _normal_ shoes or dress shoes. Heels are fine for occasions and every once in a while depending on the outfit, but they're not the most comfortable things. Years of soccer have trained my feet to accept the way I have to stand on them, as I was always up on my toes during games, but I just don't see how women can stand to walk in these things each and everyday.

"You'll be wearing them during the wedding." Natsuko Takaishi cautioned. "Keep that in mind when picking out a dress."

Ah, yes. The reason we're on this dumb excursion in the first place. Okay, yeah I'll admit it. A dress is fairly important when having a wedding with a mix between a Western and Eastern style. But it's November. Yama and I aren't getting married until next August. I'd say we still have plenty of time to go dress hunting. I may be very anti-procrasination normally and seek to get things done at the first possible time, but this is one case that needed a lot of persuasion.

"How do you know I'm still going to fit into the dress next year?" I demanded as they had primed me in my new look before we left.

Mimi let out a laugh. "Sora, you never get fat or grow big. Your metabolism is amazing. It's not going to change now."

"And you can cross it off the list as something else you've accomplished." Tracey tried.

"If I wanted to do that, I could've gone and looked at invitations. Now couldn't I?"

She shrunk back, knowing not to mess with me more than she had to. Kari, ever the rational voice and only sane person here besides me, finally spoke up. "If you get the dress shopping done now, or at least started, you'll have one up on the paparazzi. They won't be expecting you to go shopping right now. They'll anticipate you'll wait till later."

Her words, true in logic and as the calming voice, pushed me to go and get it over with. And I guess they were right: if we got this shopping done now, we'd have it out of the way.

I had no idea what I was in for. . .

* * *

"Oh my God…it's the mothership."

I was used to Mimi's dramatics. We had reached the mall, ready to start our dangerous expedition for dresses. Dangerous in my opinion, at least. Like any typical Saturday, the stores were crowded with people, and I could only hope no one would see through this disguise I was forced into.

Mom and Natsuko led the way, having researched a couple of the stores to see what our best bet would be. We walked into this little boutique, one I wasn't familiar with, and it appeared Mimi and my cousin weren't either.

"Excuse me, could you help us out please?" Mom asked as we approached the front counter.

Our answer turned out to be a pop of bubblegum. The teenager behind the counter, sitting with her feet propped up on the desk and a trashy magazine in her hands, glared at us. "I'm on break."

She was the type of worker who gave teenage employees a bad name. First impressions seem to matter in the working world, and I knew how it went, having worked for Mom's flower shop during high school. But this girl, who seemed to be so indifferent to the fact that we were standing right in front of her, _paying _customers who, in my case, wanted to get out of the store as soon as possible. "Could you at least point us in the direction of. . ."

"Lower sizes. Big sizes. Dressing rooms," she lazily pointed in the general vicinities. Knowing that was all we would get out of her, I led the way to the lower sizes.

"…the manager or someone who can help us?" Hikari tried to finish her thought.

The girl sighed, as if royally ticked off that she had to move from her resting position. "Reiaki, customers," she yelled, at least making an effort to walk over to the backroom. "She'll be out with you in a minute or two." The girl headed back to the desk, lounging her feet up once more and cranked the radio up with a smile.

I did everything in my power to fight back the groans, moans, exasperated sighs and screams that were building up in my throat. And somehow I was successful in concealing them all. Sure, I love all the music Yamato and the guys make, but I can only take so much in public. Their latest single was blasting over the radio, thanks to the girl on "break", and I was sure everyone in the mall could hear it.

"Hello, all. My name is Reiaki Chinin. I'm the manager here. Can I help you find anything?" she cheerfully called, tapping her right foot in beat with the song.

I surveyed the woman. She looked to be just about thirty, but her energetic reaction to the music and the fact that she didn't tell her useless helper to turn the volume down gave me a bad feeling that she was a Wolves fan as well. "We're looking for some dresses for my wedding."

"Ahh!" she let out a painstakingly loud squeal, one that rivals Mimi and Tracey when they spot a fifty percent off sale. "Congratulations!" The manager lady looked me up and down a couple of times, circling around me like a vulture in flight and turning to then study my friends. "What kind of date do you have in mind? Because, if it's a summer wedding, then you're going to want to go with some…"

"Actually, right now, we're here to look for her dress," Tracey pointed out. "She's the main one to be concerned about, as it is her wedding."

"Not that we're not going to look for dresses for ourselves. . ." Hikari added, so as to not add to the upset look on the woman's face.

The manager turned her attention, once more, in my direction. Her foot tapping sped up with the increasing beat, and it seemed like she was hoping the tapping would send a message to her brain. "Hmmm…size three, if I'm not mistaken. Medium height. You could pull off a strapless gown, if you possibly desired. But I don't know if I'd chance it." I blushed, a bit indignant when realizing what she was alluding to. "The length will depend on the season, as will the make-up of the dress. And any derivative of white can fit your skin type and structure. Have…" she stopped talking and stared intently at me. "Have I ever seen you before? You look _really_ familiar."

"Um…well, I've never gotten married before, if that helps you any."

"Sometimes people compare her with Sora Takenouchi," Mimi helpfully butted in. My eyes flashed dangerously in her direction, but the girl kept on going. "But I wouldn't do that. Sure, there are some similarities, but I actually think Sasha here looks prettier than that Takenouchi chick."

Okay, so was I supposed to be flattered or turned off by the comment? Regardless, at least I could thank Mimi for getting me out of that spot. No matter how much the two of us are different, I know she's always got my back. And, truthfully, though I wouldn't admit this to anyone and as much as I furiously complained about having to do this, I was actually looking forward to shopping with her and Tracey today. It would be just a little bit awkward with my mother, as we don't always see eye to eye on things. But being around Tracey and Mimi, two of the biggest fashion gurus I've ever met, shines a light on this seemingly dull event.

"I guess the only thing I can tell you, since I don't know many of the specifics, is to just start browsing," the manager advised. "Dresses are sorted by size and style. On your left are the a-line dresses. They're subdivided by sleeve length and cut type. From there, you'll see the ball gowns, mermaid style, princess dresses and, finally, sheath."

I didn't know what language she was speaking in, but it was very clear I needed a translator. The lady noticed my lost expression and fixed me with another peculiar look.

So, obviously, I'm not the most savvy when it comes to clothing types. I can match things together, find good deals, get cute clothes and the works. I just never classify items when I go shopping. Well, I don't classify them in standard terms. Hikari and I have our own terminology, contrary to the accepted names of different items. To both of us, a dress is a dress. What Mimi and Tracey call halter is a tie-around-the-neck dress for us. Some dresses are straight down and some go poof at the bottom. If we were going by my terms, I could understand everything about every dress in the place. But here, under standard weird terms, at least in my opinion, I was going to need someone to teach me.

"Is there a problem?"

"Nope," Tracey happily replied, taking me by the arm. "Everything's fine. We just didn't imagine there would be this much of a selection."

That appeared to placate the women's peaked curiosity for the time being. "The dressing rooms are on the north end of the store. Call me over if you have any questions or need any help."

Her voice clearly held her doubt in our ability to get through this. But we were ready. Armed and equipped with my crazy friends and family, I should be out of here in at least an hour and a half. Right?

* * *

"How can you ignore the poof? I mean, it's _poof!_"

"Well, I frankly think the a-line cream colored one over there. . ."

"Oh no; you seriously can't consider her wearing _that_ thing. It's uglier than Taic…I mean. . ."

"Go ahead and say it, Mimi,"

"…that shirt he wore to dinner with us all last week."

"That's the understatement of the year. I nearly fainted when he came to pick me up. I can't believe he thought it looked good."

"So..Sasha, honey, how about you try on the princess style one? It looks pretty."

"Toshiko, it would look fine if she was probably three inches taller."

"Why don't you try on the one that's all straight and then goes poof?"

"It's called a _mermaid_ dress, Hikari."

"Same thing,"

Two hours, twenty six minutes and fifty five seconds. That's how long we've been here. Sure, it's no problem for the store owner and her apathetic helper, but it's starting to bug me. Quite frankly, I agree with Hikari. About the lingo, I mean. But the dress she wants me to try on for the umpteenth time just isn't me.

Do you ever get that feeling when shopping? It's like there's something on one of the racks that looks really cute and perfect for the occasion, but you know it just won't be right on you. Contrary to what everyone else thinks about it. That's the way it's been going all afternoon. The others say my heart's not in things, and I'm just not completely here. But, truthfully, I haven't seen anything that's had my name tattooed on it. Things have looked nice; I'll give the others that one. But nothing in this store has jumped out at me as the dress I'm going to wear when I marry Yamato.

Maybe I'm being too picky. Maybe I'm expecting too much. Maybe I'm really out of things like the others say.

Or maybe I'm the one who's right. I just…what are they doing!

"Hey, Yamato, it's Mimi."

"Mimi, what are you doing?" I demanded as I marched over to her, dropping the silk gaudy dress Mom had forced into my hand, much to the dismay of the store owner.

She glanced at me, giving one of those patented _what do you think I'm doing_ looks and held up her hand to silence me. "Yeah, we're out dress shopping and need some more advice. But seeing as you're busy right now, I guess you really can't help us out. Give us a call back if you free up sometime soon. Bye."

Hoping I wasn't attracting anymore attention, I took the phone out of her hands. "Why did you just call him?"

"We're obviously not getting anywhere. Tracey and I thought the guys could be of some help. Who better to ask then your future husband?"

I can think of a lot of other people. I'm really going to have to thank Takuya for scheduling a meeting for right now. Maybe I should send him a meat and cheese platter, or something tangible to express my thanks. "But the guys shouldn't know, should they?" Mom asked, saving the day. "Isn't it supposed to be some sort of tradition?"

"Look, I'm really glad you guys want to help me out, but talking to the guys isn't going to help us. And really, Mimi, do you think it was smart to call _you-know-who_ from a public place? We're trying not to attract attention from the people around us. I'm keeping your phone, for the time being, in case he calls back and to stop you from calling Taichi."

"Um, So…Sasha?"

"Don't interrupt me when I'm ranting, Hikari."

The younger girl was clearly amused, trying her best to fight back a smile and, most likely, the accompanying laughter. "I don't think you have to worry about Mimi trying to call my brother."

"I know; I have her phone."

The laughter came out like a waterfall. "That's not the reason." Fighting to control her giggles, the brunette pointed to something I had forgotten about.

Shoot me now.

"Hey, Tai. Don't tell me you just woke up! Whatever; look we need a favor." Tracey gave me a wide smile before putting her boyfriend on speaker phone. "Say hi, Tai."

"Hi, Tai," he repeated, and I knew he could feel the glare Tracey was sending him through the phone line. "Hey, girls. To what do I owe the pleasure of this wake up call?"

"We're down at the mall shopping for a wedding dress for Sasha," Natsuko answered. "And Mimi and Tracey thought you'd be able to give. . ."

"Who's Sasha?"

Tracey kept on going, pretending she hadn't heard him. "We're kinda having a dilemma. There's so many dresses, and we can't decide. . ."

"Who is Sasha? Trace, I know _no one_ with the name Sasha. This isn't some sort of stupid joke, is it?"

"Taichi: what kind of dress do you think we should get her? Mimi and I found this really cute a-line one with a handful of beads, but we're not too sure if it goes with her complexion. Natsuko wants her to try on the ball gown again, but I really think there's too much poof. Sora's not a poof kind of person, you know?"

Taichi's confusion was as large as his appetite. "…No…Tracey, who is. . ."

"…your sister wants her to go with a mermaid one, but that would just look plain weird on S…Sasha. Toshiko wants the princess look. It's too last year, though. What do you think?" The last sentence came out in a jumbled rush. _I_ had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. Poor Taichi; he's got to be point blank past confusion, now bordering on mental insanity.

"Tracey, usually I try and make an effort to understand what you talk about, even if I have absolutely no interest in it or just don't care. But right now YOU ARE MAKING _NO_ SENSE! I'm under the impression you're somewhat remotely babbling on about dresses. But I have no idea where you're going with anything. Why don't you just call them straight, large at the bottom, or a mixture of the two. . ."

Mom nudged Natsuko Takaishi. "Descriptions must run in the family."

"And, for the millionth time, would you _please_ tell me who the hell Sasha is?"

Everything around us was quite. Thankfully, we were the only ones in the store, but that didn't stop the two workers from giving us the strangest looks. Could you blame them, though? We walk in there, arguing about names for dresses and all the other hoopla that's been going on, and still, three hours later, are going through the same thing. Mix that in with a deranged young man, screaming into a cell phone about fake names and unknowns…if I were them, I'd commit us all to a nuthouse.

And sadly, I'd probably go of my own free will.

"Taichi, honey, it's me," I said, taking the phone from Tracey's outstretched arm and turning off the speakerphone function.

"Sora? Can you clear up some questions? PLEASE!"

"I will as long as you promise to stop yelling at the top of your lungs."

"Granted. What is the name of everything good is Tracey raving about, and who is this Sasha chick? Have you guys made a new friend and not let me know? I'm one of your best friends; I thought you told me these kinds of things."

"Cut the drama queen act, you baby." I walked into a sea of white, hiding myself within the bounds of the poofy parachutes and long, billowing trains on the silk creations. "Tracey and Mimi decided that they wanted your opinion about what dress I should get. We're all not seeing eye to eye on the matter, so they decided to call you."

"But I don't know anything about dresses," his panicked, still not near calmed voice responded.

"Join the club,"

"So wait a minute; I thought they were shopping for a dress for this _Sasha _lady, not you. Unless. . ." the light bulb had finally turned on. "You have a friend named Sasha who's getting married and I wasn't invited?"

"…"

"Kidding; I take it that you're Sasha in disguise and doing this to fend off any psycho stalkers."

I laughed, glad he was coming back into his normal Taichi standards. "Give the boy a prize. So, do you have any say in the matter?"

"Sor, a dress is a dress. They come in three styles, as far as I'm concerned, and I don't think anyone can tell you what dress to get. You have to decide this for yourself."

"Taichi, if you were here right now, I'd probably kiss you."

"I've still got the charm; wait till I rub this one in to Yamato."

I rolled my eyes. Yep, he's _definitely_ back. "Thanks for the pep talk, Tai."

"No problem; hey, where are you ladies at?"

I gave him the address, thinking nothing of this. "Why? You going to come check up on us and try and learn proper dress names?"

His chuckles rivaled those of the hyenas from _Lion King._ "Yeah right; why would I do that. Talk to you later, Sor."

Bravely deciding it was time to leave the safety and sanity of the dresses, I stepped out into the wild once again. "Took you long enough," Tracey demanded. She looked a little bit peeved, as if ready to blow up at any minute.

"Don't mind her," Hikari piped up. "She's kind of mad at my brother."

I quirked an eyebrow. "He just admitted he doesn't listen to all her conversations," Natsuko supplied.

"That's a typical male thing, Tracey." Mom smiled supportively. "All men do it."

While the women began to discuss men and the general habits of the majority, I continued my search. I knew I could consult the manager and she'd help me now that she'd decided we weren't really _that_ crazy. But Taichi was right; I need to choose this on my own.

I wandered down the aisle, looking through the infinite number of dresses before me. Too poofy. Too straight. Too blah. Too beady. Too many straps. Too slutty. Too dressy. Didn't this place have anything to fit me? I'm really not a picky person. I just want to look nice in a dress that fits me, compliments me and feels right.

I'm starting to think I'm never going to come close to that description. Maybe I should just go back and. . .

Here we go. . .

While the manager had cautioned against strapless dresses, I didn't rule them out completely. But I didn't look in the section, either. She could say what she wanted to, but I had, in fact, worn a strapless dress before and had no problem with it, thank you very much. There are people in this room who could vouch for it, too. First one aisle; then the next. My feet demanded my brain rid control of them for the time being, and it seemed they led me to every dress type in the store.

I could try that one. That one's too simple. That one's way too ornate. Ivory isn't really my color. I'm not too sure about cream, as well. There's a possibility. No way; the price is way too astronomical for a one-time affair.

There's got to be something in this store!

"How about that one?"

Kari had escaped the debate on men and ventured over to join me. "That one?"

"Yeah," she reached over for the dress right in front of us. "I don't know; it just seems like you. It's simple, but still dressy. The color's the normal natural one. It's got a few beads, some silk, and some other material I'm going to pretend I know the name of…a little bit of everything. And between you and me, I think you could pull off a strapless dress no problem." She glanced at the manager. "That lady, well, let's hope she never has to."

Kari's comment lightened the mood up. I _had_ been considering the dress in front of me. It had been "the possibility". I was planning on looking some more, but it didn't appear as if anything else was going to jump out at me.

"Go ahead; try it on." Hikari pushed me toward the changing room, getting the others to come over to wait for me to come back out. . .

"Oh my goodness!"

"You look gorgeous!"

"He's going to _die_ when he sees you."

"It took us this long to find one like that?"

Judging from their comments, a far cry from the previous "You've got to be kidding me-s!" "No way in hell!" and "My eyes! My eyes!", I took them all as good signs. The others seemed to give me their approval, and it looked like even the manager and moody worker agreed with the choice.

According to the human dress dictionaries, Mimi and Tracey, the dress was velvet satin-ish with princess seams—whatever they are—rhinestones adorning the dress and a chapel train. Hikari, Mom and I had no idea what the other two and Natsuko were talking about regarding those things, but we pulled a Taichi: nodding and smiling and pretending like we knew exactly what they were talking about.

With tears running down her face, Mom pulled me into a hug. "I think we just found your dress."

Hearing the sound of money in the very near future, the manager flew over to us. "It's absolutely stunning on you, dear. You'll need to make a few alterations on the length and adjust the zipper area so it's not too big on you, but nothing should be too hard or costly. Is it up to your liking?"

From the moment I put the dress on, I knew I could feel comfortable walking around in it and standing up next to Yamato, pledging my life to him. Oh yeah, I could definitely go with this dress. So what if there were other, better ones out there for me. I wasn't going to let this one slip away. And I didn't want to face another shopping excursion for _my dress_ with my friends, mother and future in-law. "I'll take it. . ."

* * *

"How will you be paying today, miss?"

"Card," Mom instantly responded, pulling out Dad's credit card. We had agreed earlier that she would take care of the bill while we were here. While I had more than enough money to cover even some of the most expensive dresses, it was safer for us to have her pay for it for the time being. We didn't want anyone to discover my identity when we were almost home free.

"Sign here, ma'am," the teenager carelessly called out, thankfully not bothering to look at the name on the card.

Mimi and Tracey stood to my right, gabbing on carelessly about the dress while Kari and Natsuko held the wrapped dress up so it wouldn't get wrinkled. "Sora, Yamato's going to. . ."

All eyes trained themselves on Tracey, and I stopped breathing. She so did not just say that. "Sora?" the manager questioned. She instinctively grabbed the receipt my mom had signed from the teenager before she could give it back to Mom. "Haruhiko Takenouchi…oh my God! You're not Sasha!" she pointed an accusing finger in my face. "You're Sora Takenouchi! You're _the_ Sora Takenouchi, Yamato Ishida's fiancée."

It was as if all time had stopped. Things started moving in slow motion. Mom grabbed her receipt. We all hastily backed up to the lone exit. The teenage worker finally showed some life. She ran out the exit. The next thing we knew, we were blocking our ears and trying to discreetly flee the scene. "SORA TAKENOUCHI IS IN OUR STORE!"

We were caught, trapped, unable to get out. Everyone was going to know I bought my dress, and I was going to be stuck answering a barrage of questions. Why did Tracey have to go blow my identity at the last second? I prepared myself for the impact, waiting for the hoards to come attack.

But they never came.

"Who cares about that, lady," an elderly woman cried out. "Yamato Ishida and The Wolves are out by the east exit and they're signing autographs.

The mad rush was going the other way, much to my confusion. Yamato couldn't be there. He's in a meeting right now with Takuya. But regardless of whatever has just caused the whole mall to clear out around us, I'm not complaining.

One individual remained, stationed in the nearby food court and laughing hysterically. I approached, a bit hesitantly. "Tai?"

"These people will believe _anything_ you tell them," he chuckled, and I started laughing as I realized what happened.

"We so owe you one, Tai."

"I know; I'm keeping tabs on it."

Mom rolled her eyes at his response. "Sora, why don't you ride back with Taichi. The rest of us will battle the crowd, as we're parked out that way." She handed me the dress and the others said their goodbyes.

One point five minutes later we were at Tai's car, and I was thankful to be out of their alive. I leaned over and gave him a friendly kiss before he could drive off. "I think that escape justified a kiss."

He gave me a goofy grin as he threw the car into drive. "I knew you loved me, Sor. Wait till I tell that to Mr. Rock Star. . ."

**A/N: Looks at calendar; well, it only took me FOUR MONTHS to update. I'm so sorry guys. I didn't mean for it to be like this. I never realized how much time college stuff takes up until I got so submerged in it. I can't promise anything, but I'm going to hope to have more updates coming at you soon, and maybe a few stories co-authored in the coming months. I'll do my best; I can promise that.**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. It's definitely been a long time coming, and I had a huge blast writing it. Reminded me of going prom shopping a couple of weeks ago, and the conversations I had with my friends about the proper names of dresses. Just for the record, I side with Tai and Kari. Keep the reviews coming guys. I always love to hear what you have to say!**

**Until the next update, here are some teasers, in no particular order, from upcoming chapters to keep you guys interested:**

1) "Whose stupid idea was that?" All eyes looked at Taichi.

"What? Why does everyone always think _I _come up with the dumb ideas?"

2) I gulped as my parents approached me, obvious looks of anger etched onto their faces. "Sora Takenouchi, if you still lived under our roof, you would never see daylight again."

3) "It was great," Takeru continued to heckle, and I knew Yamato was plotting his brother's demise in his head. "If you ever need blackmail on him, come to me. I have all the pictures."

4) "Tryouts?"

"Tryouts. You all can thank me later for coming up with such a good idea."

**Please review!**


	5. That's What She Said

Going to the chapel  
By theladyknight

Disclaimer: My bank account is running pretty low due to college expenses; do you really think I own this?

Dedication: To everyone who has stuck by my stories even though I've not updated for quite some time. More specifically, to **blue9989 **for the encouragement, **flipstahhz** for the wonderful conversations and awesome story—check out _**My Funny Valentine**_ for a good sorato read, and **Calare** for providing me with one of the most humorous lines in the entire chapter and probably story, at least in my eyes.

And thanks to: **sd, update now!!!, Someone who likes Sorato, shadowcat, **and **Raquel **for the reviews.

A/N: A quick word of warning, I delve into a little _Harry Potter_ shipping debate amongst the characters. It is meant to be humorous and coincide with the comings and goings of Sora's and Yama's relationship. Please keep in mind that it's meant to be rather cynical and sarcastic; there is some "bashing" of characters, but it is meant in a strictly humorous sense and not done purposely because I like or do not like those characters. And, if you don't keep up with the world of _Harry Potter_—shame on you! Just kidding—I think there's enough information about the couples mentioned for you to get the gist of the scene.

**Chapter 5: That's What She Said**

_Dear Yuka,_

_First off I have to say how TOTALLY awesome you are. Sometimes I think my mama buys the newspaper just so we can read your column. How do you know so much about all these famous people? I would absolutely love to have your job. _

_I have a question for you about one of our many mutual interests: The Wolves! Any word on when they're making their return trip to Japan? I haven't seen them in concert yet, which is almost a sin, you know? But, more importantly, what's the deal with Yama-kun and __**her**__? Seriously, The Wolves are so popular that they don't need this publicity stunt to continue on like this. I read on an American entertainment blog that they left a club in the States, bickering and shouting at each other. What's the truth? If anyone knows it, it's certainly you, Yuka_

_Cheers!  
__Usagi, 16  
__Okinawa_

_Yuka-san!_

_Konichiwa! I just love your columns; you are my idol, no question about it. I love how you know everything about everyone at any time. _

_Speaking of which. . ._

_What's the latest dish on The Wolves? One of my friends has a cousin whose stepbrother played basketball against Yamato-kun's little brother. This may be off subject, but his little brother is fine as hell—says my source. Any dirt on him? Back to The Wolves, though—my source mentioned a spectator who was sitting with Yama-kun's okaa-san saying that Takenouchi Sora is pregnant! Isn't that…unexpected? What do you know?_

_Arigato,  
__Malea, 21  
__Yokohama_

_Yuka—_

_I'm not gonna believe it until you confirm it. I can't believe it. Yama-kun and Akira-kun just left rehab? That makes no sense! Neither of them has ever been dubbed high-profile risks for rehab; though I suppose it does happen to those we least expect it from. I also hear Yamato's suicidal. Please, please wash these thoughts clean! I am a mother of two very loyal, very dedicated Wolves fans. But I do not want them listening to the music or worshiping these lovely young men if they are not quite so lovely. _

_Aki, 45  
_

* * *

**4 January 2011**

_**I'm a Slave for You. . .**_

_**Hello dears. I bring you tidings of peace, serenity, and happiness as we enter into a new year. **_

_**I've always loved a new year to tell you the truth. It's a time for beginnings. You can close (read: mercilessly slam) doors on the unwelcome and uninvited only to coyly open up the windows of new opportunities (read: sexy new trends, sensual new fragrances and colognes, and steamy men who may just be The One). **_

_**Or maybe I just enjoy picking up the most recent romance novel that the bookstores and libraries have to offer me.**_

_**Luckily for us all, we don't need to wait in line for the newest novel to see story-like events unfolding right in front of us. It may be a new year, but that doesn't have to stop the hot gossip from rolling over to find us. Of course, you all know well enough the information I give you is far from gossip; in case you've forgotten or need your first reminder in this new year, here is comes:**_

_**The things you read in this blog are NOT fiction. My sources (who must remain nameless in light of silly confidentiality matters) and I scour the globe for this news. We don't settle for the trashy tabloid rumors and false leads. No my dears, this is the real deal right here. And I'd mind you all to remember that.**_

_**Nasty disclaimers and reminders aside (because really, I know you, the most loyal awesome fan base in the world would never fall for the lies littering the internet media that doesn't have the same connections and standing in the world that I do) it's time for what you've been waiting for.**_

_**Our favorite subject.**_

_**I know; how can I always find information about The Wolves so readily and so obviously? You'd really think there wouldn't be **_**that**_** much information out there about them. They're just four very successful young men, out there doing what they do best and being rewarded for their efforts. This draws the media to them. Why wouldn't we be interested in those who have such remarkable voices and talents while many of the rest of us can hardly carry a tune in the shower or make banging on pots and pans melodically?**_

_**Simply speaking, we CRAVE information on these people, which is where I come in again.**_

_**My inbox has been absolutely cluttered with dedications, professions, and musings of us, the humble and dedicated fans, over the past few weeks. So I said to myself, Yuka, darling, why don't you write a column strictly about The Wolves. **_

_**There's so much to talk about:**_

_**The Wolves rang in the New Year in Sydney, Australia, taking part in the **_**Another Time, Another Place **_**tour with groups from precisely seventy-five countries across the world. The tour's purpose is to raise literacy and education status in third world countries through the construction of new schools and educational centers and the fostering, education, and training of young people from these countries to fill the roll of mentor and teacher. How sweet is that? All proceeds made from ticket sales went directly to this fund. The multinational organization announced that, on last count, $20 million (American dollars) had been raised. And with fifteen more stops –including…you guessed it!...back home—the cash flow is sure to increase.**_

_**And speaking of the concert, did you all catch their performance? It was streaming on the web all over the world. For those of you who missed it, and those who would like to relive it, I can think of only one way to describe the men: yummy. Who knew the male specimen could look so delicious wearing jeans and matching white t-shirts. The guys played three of their songs—yeah, we all wanted more but they couldn't be attention hogs given there were so many other groups present at the same time—"Ready or Not", "Revenge", and, my current favorite and their chart-topping new single "Implode". All I gotta say is that I watched their section of the concert multiple times before I finally got my fill of The Wolves.**_

_**Turning now to information we're all dying to know: love lives!!! Akira is said to be dating Russian supermodel Sonia. No confirmed sources on that—but there could be shortly…just wait till you read my closing remarks for my BIG surprise!! Takashi had happily declared himself single. American gossip rag **__Star__** stalked him throughout the visit in California last weekend and reported him leaving a club with a voluptuous blond on his wrist, though. Course this is a trashy, fiction-based magazine talking. Yutaka is quietly maintaining that he and Katsumi Miho, lead singer of Japanese one-hit-wonder band Sakura are "just friends". Who does he think he's kidding, really? **_

_**This leads me to the main point of discussion. It's time for some WEDDING NEWS! I am talking, of course, about the tumultuous set of affairs surrounding Ishida Yamato's and Takenouchi Sora's supposed upcoming nuptials. To the question posed in one of the letters above, yes, the wedding is still on. Yet no one has discovered any date so far. My sources and I are working on it and will get back to you as soon as we have reliable dirt. They're trying to keep it on the down low, is the answer we frequently get from the band members and Ms. Takenouchi. But that leaves room to doubt…is that the real reason?**_

_**It's no secret that there's been some tension running between Yama and Sora over the past few weeks. As one of my faithful readers pointed out, there was an article in a **__reliable__** American blog two weeks ago. Team sorato was in a heated argument though there were no spy-witnesses present to give depositions. One can only wonder just what they were fighting about. Could this be the much anticipated split of sorato (Sora x Yamato)? We'll have to wait and see.**_

_**Dispelling other rumors my readers have brought to my attention, Ms. Takenouchi is most definitely not pregnant. She just seems to have gained some poundage over the course of the tour. If you're reading this, love, I could recommend a great personal trainer—a man good in skill and in bed—who could help you out. Yama and Akira HAVE NOT been in rehab. End of story. And if Yama-kun is suicidal, I would postulate it's based off rumors that Sora's been unfaithful, with his best friend, of all people. Of course, those are **__just_ _**rumors; and as for Yama-kun's brother, Takeru, well…we don't really know a whole lot about him other than the fact he, too, is fine as hell. I promise I'll look into it more, ladies. And I may have just the right source to ask.**_

_**It's time for my big surprise.**_

_**I, Yuka, have been granted an EXCLUSIVE interview with…you guessed it…THE WOLVES!!! I was sitting at my desk, pouring over findings from some of our chief spy-witnesses when my boss called me into his office to say that our paper had been granted an interview with them. You all know how unprecedented this one is; The Wolves, or rather Ms. Takenouchi, do not grant a large number of interviews anywhere. My boss knows of my blog-following and our devotion to The Wolves, among other celebrities, so he gave me the honor of conducting this. **_

_**So, hold onto your hats, everyone. In one week's time, you'll be getting a first-taste look into the world of our favorite band, and I'll have a lot of juicy gossip for you. Until then, my dears!**_

_**Hugs and kisses,**_

_**Yuka**_

**Sato Yuka writes her weekly entertainment blog to keep fans of all ages informed on the comings and goings of their favorite celebrities, entertainers, and pop culture icons. Ms. Sato, 27, is a writer for **_**Ryoukai**_** © magazine and constant contributor to other entertainment outlets. **

**

* * *

**

"It's not that big of a deal,"

"How is it not that big of a deal?" I slammed my laptop shut, wincing at the sound it made.

Mimi glanced up from the magazine she was reading and gave me a look of pity. "It's all in good fun, Sora. It's not like that chick means anything by it. She reports gossip; it's what brings in her paycheck. The more junk she reports, the better it is for her."

"Half the stuff she was on about is complete bull shit."

"People know that," Mimi threw out as she resumed her reading. "I mean, yeah there'll be some who believe the stuff she's writing, but most people are able to separate fact from fiction."

"Like that makes me feel so much better, Meems,"

"Just relax, Sora. Sure, lots of people read these columns. Hell, I read these columns, if not just for a few laughs. The stories she and other gossip writers have all have a little basis in truth but are so stretched out and with so many holes that people can obviously figure out what is fake."

"Then why do these stories always get blown out of proportion and plastered all over the news?"

"Because even if they're not true," Mimi waved her freshly manicured pink nails in my direction, "people want something to gossip about. I mean, really, who wants to discuss serious problems or issues? Yeah, they're important and all—stuff like politics and the economy and career and education—but not exactly fun or exciting to discuss. People want the kind of news that'll keep them talking. It's easier to discuss the light, less serious stuff."

Oh yeah; that makes me feel so much better.

"Meems, hon, I understand that you're trying to help and everything, but this isn't doing anything to reassure me."

I could tell she was as frustrated with me as I was with her. "You have to understand this from a normal person's point of view. . ."

"And I'm _not_ normal?"

"Sora!" She stood up, throwing the magazine to the ground. "Think about this one! You are the manager of one of the hottest bands in the world. Your boyfriend is the lead singer of that band. You have become friends with other celebrities and A-list stars. You have connections all across the globe. You have millions at your disposal."

"So what?"

"So what? You're famous, a celebrity! Celebrity is interesting to those of us who aren't blessed with it. You know how they say we all want our fifteen minutes of fame? You don't have to worry about that. You have that. Look at the rest of us, though. People idealize; they dream; they wanna know what it's like to be famous. It seems like a life of glamour, intrigue, and everything you could possibly want. So why not talk about it when together? Why not read gossip magazines to find out about these celebrities who lead lives we kind of wish we could lead?"

Okay, so maybe she had a point.

A small point.

But seriously, it's the principle of the matter. I really don't care whether or not people want their own fifteen minutes of fame. Sure, it's fine and dandy to want to know about celebrities and stars and what not. It's a different matter, however, when it hits close to home.

The paparazzi and media can either be your best friend or your most hated enemy. In the world of entertainment you come to depend on them to market you. I can do as much as I can to book performances and studio time and get them ready to release their next single and cd, but it comes back to the press critiquing it and giving their opinion. It really shouldn't matter at all; they shouldn't be the judge of everything, but aren't they, really?

They can either bring you down or build you up by a single comment, phrase, article, or picture. They can bring you to the surface when you're a nobody. They can completely knock you off the social ladder and radar in one moment of failure. One article holds the power to get the entire world talking.

It doesn't matter whether if it's good or bad, though. Mimi's right; people eat it up regardless. The paparazzi and media hold such an impressive power to shape what's in the news and just how a celebrity or group's image is.

That's what's bothering me so much. Usually, we get a lot of good press. We don't go out of our way to collect the negative stuff—you remember those American chicks…what were their names, Lindsey Lohan and Paris Hilton—and get our faces remembered for our partying, drinking, and drug usage. When we get bad press, and mind you it has happened, it sadly merited.

Normally it's not that bad, the whole talking to reporters gig. Most are pretty curious, a little presumptuous, slightly snarky, yet surprisingly sympathetic. They don't twist our words _that_ much—the ones who do are not granted interviews again—and generally write decent interviews. There are the reporters out there I've never met but know of their reputations and probably would consider, the ones I grant interviews with The Wolves to—the ones we've talked to before—and then there are the ones I've never been introduced to and, quite honestly, never want to meet.

Insert this Yuka chick.

She is like _the_ prestigious gossip reporter. But she's the one who's always twisting everything just to make her works more popular and bring her more attention. She doesn't care who she affects and whose lives she ruins. I have other friends in the business who have dealt with her before. You get to form strong friendships and alliances in this industry, and one of the best things you learn is which paparazzi outlets are smart to go with and who you should just flat out avoid. Yuka is someone _multiple_ individuals have warned against.

Basically she's the Rita Skeeter of the real world.

"I don't know, Meems. I just have this bad feeling about this woman interviewing us."

She offered up a sympathetic smile, clearly not minding that it had taken me some time to respond to her. "Well, don't concentrate on it right now. There are more important things to worry about: like what color Kou and I should paint the walls of our new apartment."

"I can't believe the two of you are moving in together."

"Neither can I," she squealed. "But it just feels so right. And it's something we just decided to stop discussing and do. We were worrying too much about it and spending too much time overanalyzing it. It was the time to act instead of think. Maybe that's all you need to do. Just go with the flow; what's the worst that can happen. . ."

* * *

"Well…isn't this just a _pleasant_ place," 

I could feel the growl rising in my throat. We get stuck letting her interview the band (and sadly as has become a growing tradition, me) and are greeted with complaints about the accommodations? This is the nicest room in the entire recording studio. Takuya meets with people who are far more famous than her here, and I have never once heard them say anything bad about this place.

Calm down, Sora. I will not be the bitch; that's her job.

"I'm glad to see you like it." My tone was oozing with fake sugary-sweetness. Yamato shot me a glare, and I knew that, while I may have fooled the others, he most definitely did not feel that was sincere.

So much for not being the bitch.

"Is there something to drink? Some iced tea? Some flavored iced tea? I need something for my throat," she demanded, sitting down in the plush, oversized green chair and pulling out a notebook, pen, and tape recorder.

It had been like this since she'd shown up here. She'd demand; we'd acquiesce. She'd whine; we'd answered. She'd complain; we'd agree. Now, this was all in the name of public relations, knowing she held such a prime role at butchering The Wolves reputation with the sharp knife of lies and stories she pens. We were told to be on our best behavior so nothing got botched up.

Okay, _I _was told to be on my best behavior.

And let me tell you that is harder than hell. Am I supposed to like it that she waltzes in here and walks all over us? That she is queen of the freaking universe? That her every ridiculous whim and desire should be granted? You know, I should turn to acting. I'm doing a pretty damn good job right now of convincing people that I'm just great and dandy—except Yamato but he knows me _way_ too well to know when I'm bluffing. Oh yeah, I should totally become an actress.

"I think there's some raspberry iced tea in the refrigerator."

"Could you be a doll, Sor, and pick me up one? Go easy on the ice, babe."

Sor? Babe? Just who the hell does she think she is?

My teeth were biting so hard into my lip that I was sure I was drawing blood. "We'll go get them for you," Yamato smoothly replied, tugging on my hand and yanking me to my feet. He led me out of the kitchen—_out of hearing distance, more likely—_and then proceeded to do something I was expecting: "Can you not be civil? What's your problem?"

"My problem," I scoffed right back. Hands found my hips as I gave him what I'm sure was a purely evil look. "My problem is that bimbo. You've read her articles, Yama. You know the kind of stuff she writes."

"Are you trying to fuel her fire, though?" He didn't back down. There's many things I like about Yamato—obviously—and this is one of my favorite things; he doesn't back down when he knows he's right or when others don't believe him.

Right now I hate that damn quality.

"Sora, she knows she's getting to you. You're one of her favorite targets. Not to sound egotistical, but she's gonna lash out at you while protecting us. We'll be the victims whereas you're the problem."

"Because I deserve it. . ."

"You're certainly acting like you do right now."

Ouch. "That was below the belt, Ishida."

His eyes softened considerably, and I felt him give my hand a loving squeeze. "I'm only telling you this, Sora, because I'm in the same boat as you are. I don't want her writing trash, especially not about the band and especially about you and me. But she's not going to stop until she gets something. You need to control yourself."

I let out a sigh, knowing he was right. Not that I was going to admit it. "I suppose I can try and behave."

"For me?" he asked huskily, lowering his lips to mine and planting a very convincing kiss on my lips.

"For you," I whispered back, capturing his lips in mine only to have him fight me off; though he did seem to be having an internal battle when it came to the fighting me thing.

"Not now. We have to go entertain a gossip columnist. We'll pick up where we left off later."

Grudgingly, I acknowledged that he was right. Doesn't mean I have to like it though or pretend I do. Wait…I guess I do have to pretend I do. Doesn't make it any easier or more enticing.

Yes, I am well aware I'm acting very much like a five year old at the moment.

Yamato grabbed some drinks—not forgetting the raspberry iced tea, heaven forbid, for Ms. I'm-So-Important-Because-I-Fabricate-Your-Lives—and we made our way back out into the main meeting room where the interview was to be conducted. I could see the other three talking to her in hushed tones, expressions of incredulity etched onto their faces.

Now, from a completely objective third-party standpoint—not that I had one—they should be anything but incredulous. As much as I deeply do not care for this Yuka woman, credit must be given; I swear it's like the women's book of unwritten rules. She is quite pretty with her dark chestnut hair, creamy skin, and impeccable taste in clothes.

However, following along the same lines of this book, there's something…off about her. Granted it may just be my bias talking or at least that's what the guys would chalk it up to; I know it's not, though. Call this one woman's intuition, but she's got this air about her, this untrustworthy, haughty, fake air that's screaming bitch. Yamato may think I'm crazy, but he is not of the female species. We can pick up that quality ninety five percent of the time (there are the occasional mistakes, not that I have yet to make one) without fail.

And I'm dead set to prove I'm right. . .

"Yamato! Sora! You're back!" There was pleading in Akira's tone that had not been present before we left. My eyes narrowed; what subject had she been breaching with them?

"How about we get this interview started then?" Yutaka, ever the peacemaker, seemed to want to push away from the subject.

Yuka, on the other hand, had quite different ideas. "What a good idea! I'd love to get your input—both of your inputs, actually—on the question I was just asking these three." Takashi's muffled groan went unnoticed by the reporter. "Ms. Takenouchi, what credentials do you have to be this band's manager? I mean, being his girlfriend. . ."

"…fiancée," I icily spat back, not at all liking where this was going.

". . .my mistake," she _pleasantly_ added, though with no hint of remorse in her voice, "certainly gives you…leverage, if that's the right word. But what skills do you possess? Are you really qualified to manage a world-famous band with a net worth that's certainly quite unfathomable?"

"Excuse me?!?" I demanded, launching up from the seat I had just taken.

"The public has been wondering this for quite some time, Miss Takenouchi. And as no one has breeched the subject with you and the band before, I've taken it upon myself to ask the difficult question."

Takashi cleared his throat. "I think we all cleared up the answer for you earlier. Sora's extremely qualified; she's over-qualified compared to Makoto."

"My shoe is more qualified to manage a band then Makoto," Akira answered with a snort.

Yamato had folded his arms and was looking at Yuka was an expression of disgust. "Sora's got plenty of experience with this; she's been working with us as our manager for the past four years. And she went through training with Takuya—our record executive—who, if I recall correctly, started his own career out as a manager. I'd say she's got some nice experience behind her."

Not wanting Yamato to feel like it was his responsibility to defend me, I decided it was my place to step in and set the record straight. "If that's not enough for you, Yuka, I also have a degree in business management from Tokyo; I'm sure you know it's quite an impressive institution. The degree came while working to establish some on-job training. So you question my credentials…well, I think they speak for themselves."

"Yamato, what do you have to say to the rumors that your best friend and girlfriend are sleeping together?"

Apparently none of my rant fazed her.

The blond quirked an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"You mean you haven't heard?" She looked like Christmas had come early; her face lit up with childlike enthusiasm as she went off, the latest "confirmed reports" being rattled off her tongue. I was surprised she didn't die of oxygen deprivation. "It's all over how the two are playing you."

"Um, one of the accused is sitting right next to you. You need not talk about her like she's not here," I couldn't help but butt in.

I—for what reason I know not—was on the receiving end of his glare this time. "I think you need to check your sources. There's nothing going on between the two of them."

"But surely. . ."

Akira cleared his throat. "What's the next question?"

"Is it true there's going to be a baby? That you're the father, Yamato? Or…perhaps it's your best friend, Taichi is it?"

This is getting beyond ridiculous. Except…none of the guys seemed as agitated as I was. They looked, they looked…amused? "No offense, but I really think you need to have a word with your sources," Yutaka could barely contain his smirk as he answered.

"Has the baby already been born then?"

"I AM NOT PREGNANT!"

"Do you have any, er, less controversial questions?" Yutaka tried for the distraction again.

"Tell me, Miss Takenouchi," she looked down at her paper, "how go the wedding plans? They certainly must be giving you trouble. I can't imagine how you can manage a band and plan a wedding at the same time; it must be hard enough for you to do one, let alone both!"

Does she ever quit? Right before I could open my mouth to say something—something decisively rude—Yamato stepped in _again_. Does he not think I can handle myself? "She's doing a great job. I mean, sure, some days we both think that August can't come soon enough yet other days it's like it's coming up way, way too fast, but we just deal with it, you know."

"August?" Her face lit up in a wicked grin. "So the wedding's in August?"

He did not just say that.

I shut my eyes, willing myself not to blow up at someone. Although, it would have been difficult to determine which someone I wanted to rant at more: Yuka or Yamato. "The wedding plans are going fine. I would rather not discuss them as there are a lot of things that aren't finalized. And we don't want to publish incorrect or inconsistent information, now do we?"

My save, if it could even be called that, was not enough to distract her. Yuka looked like a girl told she could have her daddy's credit cards and go on a year-long shopping spree anywhere she liked. "But surely the plans need to be coming together. It's January after all; August will be here before you know it."

"Everything will be ready in time for the wedding."

"So you're not denying that it's taking place in August?"

I folded my arms, not liking that she was baiting me. Why is Yamato being so quiet right now? Mr. Know-it-All doesn't seem to have the answers now. "Don't you have any other questions for the band, Yuka? I don't think this whole interview should be about Yamato's and my social life. I'm sure your _dedicated_ fan base wants to know about the rest of the band."

"What colors have you decided on?"

"Again. . ."

"How about best man and maid of honor? You know, most bridal magazines will tell you that's one of the most important things you need to get out of the way."

I could only stare dumbly at her. My eyes sought out those of the men around me. At least they'll be sympathetic, maybe ready to help me out and keep this dumb woman from asking me stupid, nosy questions. Would it be too much for one of them to flirt with her—though preferably _not_ Yamato? Oh no, see, that would be too much to ask as they're all currently sitting here snickering.

Why the hell are they biting back laughter?

"I take it from your pause that you haven't. You really should get on that, honey. It's one of the most important parts of the wedding. It would be a shame if you couldn't find anyone to stand up next to you. Imagine what people would think."

"What people would think?" I lost it. My feet lifted me up from the ground, and I approached the nosy, obnoxious, scandal-loving woman, walking up as close to her as I could. "You know, it's none of their damn business what goes on in our personal lives."

"Sora,"

Great. _Now_ he decides to speak. I glared at Yamato and was unabashed to see him glaring right back at me. "No, Yamato. This needs to be said to her. You come here to interview the band yet you waste all your time on things that have nothing to do with them. Seriously! People want to know about them; some of them actually care about the stuff going on with the band, their music, the tour dates, you know, the important stuff. Not any of this personal stuff, which is quite pointless for us to talk about if you really think about it because you're going to go out of your way to twist it around. How can you even be taken seriously as a reporter if all you do is invent garbage that people are foolish enough to believe?"

Oh, I was totally on a roll now.

"And you come in here acting as if. . ."

"You. Me. Other room. Now." Yamato grabbed my hand, tugging me away from the woman who, to my complete shock, could only smirk at me. What the hell is she playing at? What is _he _playing at?

I stomped out of the room and watched him forcefully shut the door. "What?"

"What?" I let my anger flow out at him now. "Need I remind you that you're the one who drug me out here so rudely."

"So rudely," he gave a sarcastic chuckle. "Let's talk about rude; do you have any idea how you were treating that reporter?"

"And she's not one to talk?!?" How can he not see this? He was here for the entire spectacle.

Yamato began to pace. "It's not that I condone anything she was doing, Sor. But don't you see what she was doing? She was purposely trying to egg you on to gain bad press. Make herself look like the victim and you the aggressor. You only fueled her fire."

"What was I supposed to do, huh, Yama? Sit back and let her beat me up with her words and pen? You and I both know that no matter what she's going to slander my name. Why not defend myself?"

"You could have taken it in stride, Sora. In all the years that I've known you, I know you have quite the sarcastic streak. You didn't need to bite her head off about those things. You could have easily avoided the questions and seen the humor in it. If you ignore her and act normally, she'll let up on you sooner. You just gave her more to work with now. She's going to be painting an awful picture of you and the band."

"I don't believe this!" My voice was starting to carry, and I was sure they could hear us out front. I could see the headlines of tomorrow's paper already: **Going to the Chapel—How 'Bout to Divorce Court or Anger Management**. "You're lecturing me on etiquette? She was attacking me, Yamato. You did the same thing months ago when Makoto was beating us up."

"That was a completely different scenario,"

"How so? I don't see any differences?" I pushed open the door, not caring that she would be hearing all of this. All rational thought left my mind. Imagine my surprise, though, to find only the three other guys sitting in the room, heads all bent together as if they were discussing something rather intently.

"We sent her on her way," Yutaka supplied. "She ran out of questions once you guys left."

"There were plenty of differences," Yamato shot back, not ready to let this _discussion_ come to a close. "Makoto does not write for a blog that gets millions of hits. Makoto needed to be shut up once and for all after everything he put us through. This lady writes harmless gossip. . ."

"Harmless gossip?" I started laughing loudly. "You call this harmless, Yamato?"

"Yes! And if you would have kept your temper in check, this all would have blown over eventually! If there's no news for her to report about us—if everything seems boring and unchanged—she's not going to report about it. We'd be out of that spotlight and maybe they'd focus on other people or even the band instead!"

"My God; they're breaking into a Ron-Hermione argument. That never happens between Yamato and Sora."

The other boys had clearly stopped their talking, more interested in the lively _discussion_ around them than whatever they had been talking about amongst themselves. I glanced over at them to find that Akira could only stare dumbly at the statement and look on Takashi's face. "Remind me—when their row is over—to kindly start another one with Sora for loaning you her _Harry Potter _series."

It was true; I had to stop debating what witty comeback I was ready to sling at Yamato next to agree with the validity of Akira's statement. But only for a second. "You know what, Yamato. . ."

"If I remember correctly," Takashi's voice carried over mine, "you and Yutaka told me to find something else to entertain myself since you were sick of me beating you in video games. And you can relax; I'm almost done. I'm in the middle of book seven right now." He stood, clearly coming to a realization. "And you know what, I think I'm going to go back to reading. Since romance is obviously at a bit of a roadblock right here, I'm going to go read about Harry and Hermione. At least there's gonna be a happy ending for the two of them."

". . .are you even thinking about what I'm saying, Sora? You know the logic is there. I wonder if you're even listening to me anymore."

"I hate to break it to you, Takashi," Yutaka finally joined in the other conversation, "but Harry and Hermione don't end up together. It's Ron and Hermione and Harry and Ginny."

"You're clearly running out of insults, Yama, if that's what you have to throw at me."

"What???? But…but Harry and Hermione…they're so…it's so…what do you mean they don't end up together? They're like…bread and butter."

"I haven't heard any good ones coming from you in a while either, Sor."

That's because the other conversation is definitely more interesting than listening to your fiancé yell at you about keeping face while a dumb skank is insulting you. "You haven't had any good comebacks since we were eighteen, Yamato."

"Bread and butter? What the hell are you talking about, Takashi?"

"For crying out loud…look at the way they interact. Look at how easily Harry and Hermione communicate and almost read each other's throats. And I swear, Hermione's hugging Harry or grabbing his arm or holding his hand on every other page! Everyone thinks they're together, and any relationship they have ends out of jealously of the "friendship" between the two. There's so many subtle clues buried in the text; they're ready to explode out the pages. They finish each other's sentences for goodness sake! If that's not screaming love then I don't know what is."

Yamato and I exchanged a look. Our argument was temporarily forgotten—not that we wouldn't get back to it—as a rather amusing one overpowered it.

"You're forgetting Ron. Look at how crazy he is about Hermione. Same with Ginny; only she's mad about Harry. They're the perfect love interests for the two."

Takashi shook his head, apparently not put off by either statement. "Ron is as dimensional as a piece of paper; hell, almost any other guy would be a better match for Hermione. If it can't be Harry and Hermione, I'm pulling for Malfoy; now there's an interesting character. And Ginny? Ginny's a fan girl. She loves The Boy-Who-Lived…not Harry. How can you guys not see it?"

"I cannot believe you're debating the love lives of fictional characters," Yamato's mirthful statement broke the resounding silence that followed Takashi's loud declaration.

"Would you rather have me debating the pros and cons of camp _sorato_?" he shot back. At our confused looks, he gave a sigh. "That reporter—Yuka, or whatever her name was—penned a new moniker for you guys awhile back. She threw your names together, and when she left, was murmuring about what headline works best with _sorato._"

He stood up and stretched. "But don't let my delusional ramblings keep you from your own argument. I'll just be in one of the side rooms, bemoaning the fact that Harry and Hermione—who are pretty much destined for each other—don't end up together and hoping that _sorato_ figures out whatever it is you're arguing about so I can at least say one of the couples I support works out in the end. . ."

* * *

"And then Takashi stormed out of the room, muttering about how blind people are." 

"Oh my," Tracey held her hand over her mouth to repress the giggles that were ready to force themselves out. "Sounds like you find yourself in quite a sticky situation."

"Being compared to fictional characters?'

She laughed, grabbing a bag of chips from the shelf. "No, the argument you and Yamato are in the middle of. I don't understand what you're fighting about, to tell you the truth."

"I think it's kind of obvious what we're fighting about, Trace," I threw back. It had been twelve hours since the interview. We were back at home, ready for the next concert in our tour to take place in two days and taking a much needed day and a half of vacation. Of course, my vacation included currently not speaking to Yamato and being given the cold shoulder; not much of a vacation to tell you the truth.

"I really don't think so," she responded like it was an everyday matter. "Okay so yeah, the reporter chick obviously wasn't very nice to you and all that, but don't you think it was funnier than anything else? I mean, it was probably annoying as hell having her throw out all those slams at you, but at the same time, isn't it just a bit funny?"

I put my hands on my hips, coming close to dropping the bottled water in my hands. The clerk in the Inoue's market looked between the two of us, clearly hoping we wouldn't drop the things we were carrying as she would have to clean them up. Miyako, I think that's her name. I could hear her let out a sigh of relief as I shifted so the water wouldn't drop. "Being told you're apparently pregnant is supposed to be funny?"

"Come on, Sor. Kids go around saying it all the time about their parents. My little cousin on the other side of the family announced to the entire family at their family reunion that his mom was going to have twins. You should have seen the scene. It was apparently hilarious."

"And don't you think a bit embarrassing?" I challenged.

"Sora, you're in the entertainment world. There are people out there who are crazy about you and the band and others who absolutely hate you. Have you ever stopped to think that the ones who are spreading these stories and gossip just might be jealous? Want what you have? Wish they were going to marry Yamato?" She set the food she was carrying down on the counter so Miyako could ring it up. "Frankly, I think Yamato was right and you did overreact a bit. She shouldn't have said those things, but she was only doing it to rile you up and make it so people act that way around you even more."

I let out a growl, dropping the items I was holding onto the counter, as well. "Isn't there anyone out there who will give me a bit of sympathy?"

"Well, I'm not going to be attending your pity party, nor will Yamato, I imagine, but it wouldn't surprise me if Taichi would."

"Taichi?"

"Oh sure; you know how protective he is of you. He totally freaked out when he heard some of the things she asked you. Said something along of the lines of wanting to have a word with this Yuka woman and tell her a thing or two."

I smiled at this. I don't know what I'd do without Taichi sometimes. He may be annoying and obnoxious when he wants to be, but he's like the brother I never had and in situations like these, when everyone else tells me I'm wrong, I know he'll back me up. Most of the time. "That settles it then."

"What settles what?"

"I'm taking your boyfriend out for drinks tonight. Heaven knows I need something strong to help me forget my problems."

I know! I know! Alcohol is not the answer to solving problems like this and usually just comes back to bite you in the ass, but this is one of those situations where I would like nothing more than to get completely drunk with my best friend.

"Sora, are you sure that's a good idea? Taichi doesn't handle his alcohol well when he's been drinking a lot. And don't even get me started on you."

"We'll be fine," I snapped back, throwing down the money for our groceries as I pulled out my cell phone to dial the brunette's number. "It's just drinks. What's the worst that can happen, really?"

In my haste to get out of the store and hopefully away from the conversation with Tracey and into one with Taichi about the merits of a small, isolated jazz bar that would be perfect for our—_my_—pity party, I failed to notice Miyako pick up the telephone. . .

* * *

"And then I just looked at him, stuck out my hand, and yelled out 'that's what she said!'" 

Now, had I been sober or even just a little close to sobriety, I would have rolled my eyes and berated Taichi for telling such a colorful joke. But no; four rounds of drinks later, along with many shots of liquor I couldn't even pronounce—and quite a nice bill—I found it the most hilarious thing in the world.

Seriously, has Taichi always been this funny? When did I miss this?

"I miss this, Sor."

Can he hear my thoughts?

"What's that, Tai?"

"This," he gestured to him, the table, and me.

"Uh…us drinking?"

"No, us hanging out together. I miss my best friend when she's away." His face formed into a pout. "It's not fair that Yama steals you away from me. Doesn't he know I miss my Sora time?"

"Aww, honey, it's okay," I smiled back, though definitely knowing the feeling. I reached over and patted his hand. "I miss my Taichi, too. All the others, too, obviously; it's been so long since I've seen Kari and 'Keru. This whole traveling thing, it's just not my forte."

It's a wonder how we can be so honest while drunk.

"And, I don't know, this whole wedding thing is really starting to get to me. Do you know how much there is to worry about, how much there is to do? And mix that in with all the band duties. Is it too much to want a vacation, a break from all the madness?"

He squeezed my hand back. "You'll figure something out. You always do. You're Sora. It's just like when we were little; Yamato and I would cause trouble. . ."

I fixed him with a pointed look.

". . .okay, _I_ would cause trouble, dragging blondie in with me, and you would have to come save the day. This'll be just like it. You'll figure something out. Maybe you do just need to take some time off; you can concentrate on one thing or another. And don't forget, we all promised to help with the wedding planning. Maybe it's time we stepped that promise up, don't you think?"

I downed the rest of my beer, well aware I'd be feeling all of them in the morning. Yawning, I nodded in agreement. "Thanks, Tai."

"No problem, Sora. What are friends for?" He glanced at the clock on the wall. "Speaking of which, what do you say we get out of here. We've been here for over three hours, and things are starting to clear out. Let's face it, as much as this is a nice place, people don't stay at a jazz bar till all hours of the morning. We're going to be the only ones here soon."

I found my way to my feet, nearly wobbling over. Okay, maybe I'm just a little bit more drunk than I thought I was. I felt Taichi's arm wrap around my waste to steady me. Giving him a smile of thanks, I wrapped mine around him, knowing he was probably in as great of shape to walk as me. "How are we getting back?"

"Call Hikari," he recommended. "Of anyone, she'll be the most sympathetic and the least likely to kill us at this hour of the morning. Sure, she'll proceed to lecture for a few minutes, but she'll at least not refuse."

I started to search for her number as we headed out the door, only to be blinded by bright flashes. Camera after camera blinked, and I could only watch in horror, realizing just how this looked. There were rumors enough that Yamato's best friend and I were having an affair and now "photo evidence".

"Oh fuck. . ."

-To be continued-

**Checks date and does math in head Well, ladies and gentlemen, it's been officially 1 year, 6 months, and 1 day since I've last updated this story. I know, I know, I shouldn't make excuses; not that you would want to listen to them anyway. So I'll keep it short and sweet: college/English major/18 papers to write second semester of last year. Not that that excuses my tardiness by any means.**

**I hope you all can find it in you to review and let me know what you think. I'm sticking by this story till it's done; I decided to put a twist in here. The whole Yuka thing was not planned at all, but it'll be a big part of the plot, in case you can't tell. I couldn't make things too easy, now could I? Where's the fun in that? I've written and rewritten this chapter over five times in the past 1 year, 6 months, and 1 day. It's taken me that long to find something I've liked and something I hope you all can like.**

**Also, a quick note in reference to the **_**Harry Potter **_**thing. No offense is meant at all by any statement made; I wanted it to be humorous, and I find the shipping debates to be humorous. I wasn't trying to bash Ron or Ginny with the statements. The "dimensional as a piece of paper bit" came from an msn discussion with **Calare** a good year and a half ago. I found it funny and thought it would be good to lighten the mood of the debate.**

**Now that all my ranting and raving is done and that I have proved I am indeed alive—though I have spend the last month with pneumonia—I would absolutely love it if you'd drop me a review. I tried to make this chapter quite long to make up for my absence, although I know even 8,000 plus words can't make up for 1 year, 6 months, and 1 day. I want to thank all of you who have stuck by this story and keep dropping me reviews for it. You all encourage me to keep going. I promise, this story will finish; it may just take some time.**

**Thanks for all the support and wishes, and once more, please review!**

**Cheers and goodnight—it's 2 am here and I'm going to bed,  
****theladyknight**


	6. Battlefield

Going to the Chapel

By theladyknight

Disclaimer: Over the past two years, I have not successfully acquired the rights to Digimon. Just to clear that up for everyone…

Note: You'd think by now I'd have a good reason/excuse for why it takes me so long to update. Also, all slang and fragments are completely intentional—I swear.

Chapter 6: Battlefield

**7 January 2011**

_**HOLY COW!!!**_

_**My dear friends, it seems like there's a little more fact than fiction to all the rumors that we've been hearing. Who would've ever thought? I have SO much to update you on, and so little room (my editor's letting me write a special feature on this. Originally, I was going to wait to do a HUGE write-up following my interview with the Wolves, but this merits its own column!)**_

_**So much to address! So much to talk about! Let's dive right in!**_

_**The Wolves greeted me at their humble abode. We talked and joked for a little bit, and while they were all trying to give the illusion that all was well, it did not take a rocket scientist to figure out that something was amiss. Yamato and Sora entered the room, and I dived right into my questions. As usual, I don't hold back; I want **_**you,**_** the reader, to get the full scoop, and what good is to come from being hesitant?**_

_**The results?**_

_**The results were what I assumed, but what I never saw coming. For starters, the men of the Wolves were all perfect gentlemen. Yamato is as gorgeous in person as he is in all the pictures, but the others are definitely not bad on the eyes. All were polite and completely charming. It's too bad the same can't be said for Ms. Takenouchi. Talk about a real…rhymes with witch! LoL. From the moment she sat down, I just got a horrible vibe from her. She was snippy when answering questions (I'll detail complete questions and responses in the full article in a few days) and eventually blew up at me….FOR NO REASON AT ALL. **_

_**Yamato had clearly had enough of her childlike behavior. He pulled her aside, and this is where it gets interesting. They got into a ridiculously loud shouting match at each other. Things are SO not perfect in paradise. We're talking major argument and obvious anger between the two. The other Wolves looked slightly out of place throughout the process, and it really made me wonder how often the poor men have to endure her temper tantrums. **_

_**This makes the next point even more interesting. Yamato let it slip that the expected wedding date is August…that's a whole 7 months from now, ladies and gentlemen. How exciting….provided the wedding is still on, that is.**_

_**Yes, friends, it's looking like Yamato may be single soon. And it's not just the evidence from the interview that I'm citing. You're hearing it here first, though I'm sure we're not the only media outlet to report it. Our office got an anonymous call from a spy witness. Apparently, Sora decided to go out for some drinks last night. With whom? Surely, a woman like her, so devoted to her fiancée, would take him with her. No, sir. Instead of choosing her god in mortal's body, the under-qualified band manager went out with her supposed best friend, one Yagami Taichi.**_

_**After some searching, our spies managed to track them to a local bar that, admittedly, I've never heard of called Voodoo (it's a far cry from a martini bar and not somewhere most A-listers would be bringing their side dishes…unless they were trying to hide an affair…hmmm). Apparently, Ms. Takenouchi was trying and succeeding on working her magic on Mr. Yagami. Witnesses report that they were very comfortable the entire night and seemingly got closer as the night went on. One spy reports that "they kept ordering drinks and anytime she went to pay, he insisted that the bartender put it on his tab. They were friendly with each other; way too friendly for only being friends." **_

_**As they prepared to leave the bar around 2 am, both were reported as being a little tipsy. But that didn't stop them from leaving with their arms draped around each other. And as soon as they realized they were caught, Yagami grabbed onto her hand and pulled her back inside. Looks like the cat is finally out of the back, Ms. Takenouchi. This reporter wonders how devastated Yamato is when he saw this morning's headlines, and one can only speculate on when the reports of their breakup will be made public.**_

_**That's all I have space to report now, but I promise that as soon as I get more information, a longer report will follow. Additionally, look for my interview with the Wolves coming up soon! Well guys and gals, I look forward to hearing your take on things, and it looks like one rumor that everyone "claimed" to be false is very much true.**_

_**Until next time my dears! **_

_**XOXO**_

_**Yuka**_

**Sato Yuka writes her weekly entertainment blog to keep fans of all ages informed on the comings and goings of their favorite celebrities, entertainers, and pop culture icons. Ms. Sato, 27, is a writer for **_**Ryoukai**_** © magazine and constant contributor to other entertainment outlets.**

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* * *

  
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::The Previous Night::

Ah! the glorious flashing lights of the media. The incessant chirping of shutters that'll produce pictures that will, most likely, be photoshopped. The decorative notepads full of unreadable chicken scratch that'll be turned into headlines. The blessed chatterboxes letting their lips move with the melodic gasps of scandal.

Did I ever mention how much I _love_ the media?

Admittedly, The Wolves have honestly lucked out where the media is concerned. People are so infatuated with them, for the most part, that the negative press really tries to stray away from them. The normal gossip rags like to pick up the random stories that Yutaka is actually an alien from Mars or that Takashi is a drag queen on days of the week ending in –y, but they're usually fairly tame where the band is concerned.

That doesn't mean they completely escape the bad press, though. Obviously the whole situation with el bitcho, a moniker Taichi affectionately dubbed my _dear_ friend Yuka after round 5-ish of drinks (or was it 6?), kind of dispels that theory. She's actually not the worst we've seen, though; not that I'm planning on admitting to Yamato or Tracy that my pride might have gotten the better of me this time.

Oh no…the worst rumor, the most annoying, presumptuous, completely false bit of entertainment anyone has ever cooked up came about a year and a half ago. I don't really know to whom fault truly belongs. To tell you the truth, it could have been any of a number of sources. Every type of news media picked the story up and stretched it beyond anything ever seen before in the history of humankind, though I guess I may be exaggerating just a little bit.

The guys and I were getting ready to leave Africa. They'd had a nice benefit concert for victims of some recent natural disasters, and all we wanted was a quiet, relaxing evening. As is the norm, we were stalked out of the concert site by this young, edgy dude. He attempted to chase us all around until we finally managed to lose him. Unfortunately, though, he had his camera ready the entire time and was randomly snapping pictures. From his angle—and some clever, post-incident photoshopping—the pictures looked to be a lot more questionable than they should be.

We didn't look like we were on the run, for starters. In one shot, Akira and I appear to be holding hands and have our heads together. Fact: we were all running so close together that our hands were brushing—he just happened to catch this one—and we were actually in the process of fleeing for our lives.

The second, more questionable one from a media standpoint was of Yamato, Yutaka, and Takashi. It had been taken right as we were boarding the bus. Yama and Yutaka had collided as they tried to escape to the freedom the bus was ready to offer us; Takashi turned around at the noise, and the camera caught him looking at the two on the ground, both of whom were trying to catch the other up, with an exasperated expression on his face, one that that the media deemed jealously. The headlines of the tabloids decreed that the band was breaking up because Yamato's and Yutaka's love affair and Takashi's broken heart were causing irresolvable tension. And, just like always, that bitch Sora swept in and stole the only normal one.

Oh, we're no stranger to a biased, unrepentable, deplorable, obnoxious, relentless, egocentrial, pretentious. . .

"Sora, inside!"

…media.

Tai grabbed my hand, an action which didn't go unnoticed by the millions of shutterbugs who were flocking the scene, pulling me back into the bar we had t previously left. He slammed the door and did the best to barricade it with his back. My drunken stupor apparently found this ridiculously funny; Taichi was almost hugging the door, willing it not to open.

"Uh…can I help you two?"

I stopped my laughing—in the midst of a very unattractive snort—and found the bartender fixing us with a hesitant stare. The few other patrons in the bar who were out at this hour of the morning had similar looks etched on their faces. Their confusion seemed to grow as the ruckus outside got louder and louder.

Suddenly, there was a "Hey, you look kinda familiar?"

Tai groaned. "Why do you have to be so damn recognizable?"

"Don't go blaming this on me,"

"Well, I'm not the one who gets recognized for being Yamato's fiancée."

Gasp.

Damn it, Taichi. Eyes lit up around the room. The squeals inside the bar now paralleled the ones outside, squeals that seemed to be getting louder. "My bad," Tai mumbled, hitting himself on the head.

"Your bad is right," I muttered back. Great. Just great. As if the situation wasn't bad enough in the first place. Just wait till Mama reads about this in the morning papers. Just wait till Dad hears about it through the grape vine. Just wait till the guys mock me for not being able to tolerate my alcohol. Just wait till….

…oh shit. Yamato.

"We have to get out of here!"

"You think?" Taichi retorted, already pulling out his cell phone. He squinted at the phone, blinking a few times in his efforts to figure out what he was doing. As normal, Taichi is a decent drunk. He's in as much control of himself as he can be, though that's really dependent on just how much he's had to drink—and how strong it is. But dialing phone numbers, even with speed dial, or sending out text messages are not things he particularly excels at when inebriated. I could only hope he would be somewhat coherent with whomever he was contacting.

"Hikari. Yeah, yeah…I know I woke you up. Yes, I do realize…yes, no more drunk calls at 2 in the morning. Yeah…Hikari, we've gone over that. Would you just let me talk? Sora and I need your help…yes, yes…wow, are you psychic or something? That's really good. Like…really, REALLY good. Do you remember that one time…you were like four and I was…well, I was older….and you said that…focus? Huh? Oh yeah, we're downtown at this Voodoo Lounge place. Directions? Sora!" He turned to me. "How did we get here again?"

The glazed look on my eye was a mixture of uncertainty, the amount of alcohol I had consumed (though, in my defense, this whole experience was very, very sobering), and the fear that the reporters were going to burst through the door the bartender had kindly blocked of with a chair. He now stood watching us, eyes lit up in amusement and flashing back and forth between the two of us and the people inside who were whipping out their phones and cameras to take pictures.

"Let me talk to her," I grabbed the phone from his hands, not really letting him decide one way or the other. "Hikari?"

"Sora…something tells me that the two of you find yourselves in a rather compromising situation?"

I groaned. "You could say that." I related the directions we had used to get to the bar as well as I could, and she promised to be on her way as soon as possible. I hung up Taichi's phone for him while looking in the direction of the bartender. "Is there someplace we can wait where we won't be bothered by anyone?"

He studied us both carefully. "If you'd both be willing to give me an autograph, I'm sure I can find a place where you can wait for your friend. . ."

* * *

Yagami Hikari is many things.

Yagami Hikari is a nice girl. Yagami Hikari is an amazing photographer. Yagami Hikari is a loyal, dedicated sister. Yagami Hikari is incredibly optimistic about life. Yagami Hikari is wise beyond her years.

Yagami Hikari is the scariest person in the world when she wants to be.

"What were you two thinking? _Were _you even thinking? I love you both to death, and obviously I would do anything for the two of you…_obviously_…but WHY?"

I winced as her voice rose and fall as the lecture she was given us resounded around the inside of her car. True to her word, she had gotten to the bar we were at, and with some careful inquiries via text message, found the back door we'd been hiding near. The bartender had _graciously _offered to let us hide in the back workroom, which reeked of smoke and rotten food, and were both more than happy to receive confirmation that she'd arrived at the bar.

Sneaking out the back door, we were incredibly lucky to not be seen by any of the paparazzi. That was about the only thing that had gone right during the night.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," I meekly tried.

"It was just two friends going out for drinks," Taichi supplied. "What's so wrong about that?"

Hikari shook her head as she yielded to an on-coming car. "It's not that simple for you, Sora. Or even for you, big brother. You're in the spotlight. Sora, you're in a relationship with the 'hottest bachelor under 30,' as dubbed by all those gossip magazines. People—women and men—want to be you and to be with Yamato. How do you think it looks when you and your supposed 'friend' are out on the town, especially when you're engaged to said 'hottest bachelor under 30?'"

I sighed. Damn alcohol and its effects. "I suppose not so good."

She laughed sarcastically. "Not so good is a light way to say it. If you can get out of this with not so good, that's going to be a miracle."

"This is so stupid!" Taichi had been fairly quiet up until now, and I could tell that while he was sitting next to me in the backseat, he was definitely thinking about something. "We're just two friends, best friends at that since the time we were children. Is it really that hard to believe that we can't go out into public together just as friends?"

"A guy and a girl can never be _just friends_ in today's word," his sister mused quietly from the front seat.

"Like you and Takeru?"

Hikari hit the brakes suddenly, and Tai and I both grazed the seats in front of us. "_Excuse me?_"

"You heard me." I shook my head, fearful of where this was going. Drunk Taichi equaled an articulate Taichi who voiced things he might not always say while sober. Granted, they were usually the things a lot of us were thinking but were much too afraid to say, but nonetheless, they did have the potential to be damaging if asked at the wrong time.

This clearly was not the right time.

He stood his ground. "Ever since you and this Willis kid have started dating, you've pushed Takeru aside and not made time for him. It's crushing him; I don't know how you can't see it. And you know what, little sister, I can tell that you're nowhere near as happy as when you're with Takeru. It's like a part of you has disappeared since you've started dating this other guy. No offense to him or anything. He seems like a nice enough dude, but he's not Takeru. And you've pushed Takeru away because you know that."

Hikari's fingers were turning white as she gripped the steering wheel so hard that I thought it might fall off. I've only seen the two of them like this a few times before, and while they'll make up in a day or two, they'll each be left with plenty to think about afterwards. "You know, you're certainly one to talk considering the situation you find yourself in now." She had continued driving, and as we approached my temporary residence, Hikari glanced back in the rearview mirror. "Both of you…there's gonna be some fallout from the press. Major fallout. Yuka especially. . ."

* * *

Hikari, naturally, was completely right. The other outlets jumped on this story. I'm sure it had been published before we'd even left the bar. I was so exhausted and fatigued when I got back to the place that we were staying, though, that I could no longer think about it. I proceeded to collapse in my bed—which I luckily was not sharing with Yamato because we'd taken separate beds at the large suite we were in—only to be haunted by unpleasant dreams where Yuka was always the star.

It was probably a good thing that I had turned my phone off for the night then. I somehow managed to sleep through the night, and when my alarm went off, I was greeted by a ridiculous number of messages upon opening my phone. Twenty seven texts. Fifteen missed calls. Twelve voice mails. I could only shake my head. Remember the days when word DIDN'T spread this fast? Why can't those days exist now?

Luckily, I knew that while these messages probably had their fair share of reprimands within their texts, in addition to probably a few WTFs, they would at least be understanding. The only people who have access to my private telephone number are my close friends, family, and those in the industry who need it. The ones who know me best had to have realized that, while not the smartest of choices, the media was not respecting my privacy and still could not fathom that a boy and girl could be just friends. Plus, they probably knew how much of a reprimand I was personally giving myself. Nothing they said could change what had happened, and there was no reason to add fire to the fuel the media had started.

The same couldn't be said about other forms of media. I checked the band's twitter page first. It was a morning ritual and usually was pretty entertaining. I would rate today's 1,427 tweets somewhere between threatening and vicious, with the occasional death threat toward me. I didn't even want to check our email account or the band's website. That could wait for a different time.

After taking a somewhat soothing shower, I headed toward the kitchen to make some tea and hopefully gather my thoughts. I had to figure out a way to break this to both Yamato and the rest of the band. Hopefully they would be forgiving. I didn't doubt that they would, but there's always that lingering doubt that something is going to go wrong.

With the exception of Yama, the other three were already in the kitchen. I could hear the entertainment station from the living room area, promising the latest on the imminent breakup of sorato and the emergence of the previously hidden taiora (Taichi x Sora, or so say my bff's in the media).

Give me a break.

The boys all turned as they heard my footsteps. "Sounds like you had quite the interesting night."

"You have no idea," I replied back, as I proceeded to make myself a green tea. I shifted so I was facing them. "I need to apologize for this. I am so unbelievably sorry, guys. . ."

"And we're not going to forgive you," Takashi answered. Seeing that I was ready to burst into tears and that the look on my face had darkened considerably, he hastily added, "because you have nothing to apologize for."

"It wasn't the smartest choice." Yutaka put his hand on my shoulder. "But we're here in the public eye with you, Sor. We know that things get twisted out of proportion so badly that you need that escape from reality with people who aren't part of it. Tai's a good friend of ours and we know you two would never do anything to hurt Yamato."

It was refreshing to hear that they had my back, not that I really doubted they would, but I still couldn't help the guilt. The ramifications of my night out would likely be following us around for quite some time. "I feel awful about what I'm going to make you guys endure. If we thought the paparazzi were bad before, I imagine it's only going to triple. And that's if we're lucky!"

"We'll get through it like we always do," Takaishi answered. "It's what we and everyone else cursed with the blessing of popularity and fame does."

I let out a huge sigh of relief and hugged them each, one at a time. "Thank you guys. You are amazing."

Akira had been silent through the entire conversation and when I went to hug him, he just glared at me. "Is…is there something wrong, Akira?"

"Yes."

I glanced at the others, and they looked just as confused as I was. "I'm really sorry. I don't know. . ."

"You should be sorry, Sora!" He balled his hands into fists, and the expression on his face was rock solid. "Taichi, seriously? You said that we'd never work out. That you could never date someone who wasn't Yamato. So you run to Taichi instead of me? Me…who you have all the history with. What the fuck, Sor?"

My heart was racing as he started his speech, and I was clutching my chest by the end of it. The other two were nearly on the floor because they were laughing so hard at his obvious joke, referencing our little "fling" that the media had had a field day with. "Ease up on the girl, Akira. Killing her would not be a good thing."

Yutaka composed himself. "Though funny, that was a bit cruel."

"Sorry, Sor," Akira gave me a sheepish smile. "I couldn't resist. You know we love you, though, and will make sure everything works out."

I gave him a hug then too, swatting him playfully on the shoulder. "Next time, don't try to kill me in the process, buddy."

"No guarantees."

It did feel nice to know that I wasn't going to be alone in this and that they were looking out for me. However, the true test would be their other band mate, the one whose feet I could hear shuffling toward the kitchen as we spoke. The others immediately realized that Yamato had awoken and was indeed heading toward where we were, which was apparently where they didn't want to be. They scurried out of the room, mumbling something about video games and alcohol.

So much for having my back.

A slightly disgruntled, disoriented Yamato stumbled into the kitchen. He has never been a morning person, so when he gets the ability to sleep in, he's loves it. Unfortunately, one quick glance told me that something or someone had woken him earlier than he would've liked.

"Got an interesting call from Taichi this morning." He eyes pierced into mine. "Anything you care to update me on?"

"Yamato, I. . ."

"Sora, it's not particularly pleasing to be woken by your best friend, bright and early in the morning, to tell you, and I quote, 'Please don't kill me, man.'"

I managed a nervous laugh. "I imagine that it's not."

"So…I've heard Taichi's story. I'd like to hear your own."

"I don't doubt that it's that much different than his." I paused; that was _clearly _not the answer he was looking for. "I wanted to blow off some steam. I convinced Tai to go out to a bar with me so we could hang out, catch up, and I could forget about my frustrations for awhile."

He shook his head sadly. "And you couldn't find another way to blow off steam?"

"Yamato, I'm sorry! It wasn't like I intentionally went out. . ."

"…and attracted the paparazzi. Yeah, I know, Sor." He approached and set his phone down. "I know you, and I know Tai. He probably wouldn't have thought to watch for the paparazzi or to make sure that every base was covered. You would, though."

"It was just supposed to be a fun night," I responded, close to tears. From what I could gather, he wasn't mad at me. It seemed like he was just upset, maybe not necessarily at me, per say, but more at my action…or rather, inaction.

Yamato began to pace back and forth. "Which you deserved. Hell, we all deserve one of those from time to time. But they don't always see that. Sometimes, it's like they purposely don't want to see it." He sighed, turned to me, and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. "I'm not mad at you. I know you'd never cheat, especially with Tai. The two of you wouldn't be able to keep it a secret, for one, and you'd feel so guilty that you'd tell me about it. Taichi woke me up just to tell me about what had happened yesterday."

"I'm so stupid," I mumbled. "I should've just stayed home and dealt with it on my own. Now these problems with that bitch and the other reporters are just gonna get worse."

He held onto my shoulders and looked me straight in the eye. "What's important is that the people who believe you are the people who should believe you and the people who love you no matter what stupid decision you make. You made a choice. Now you just have to deal with the consequences."

I looked away from him, seeing the images from last night on the television, distorted and blown out of proportion. "I just shouldn't have dragged you guys into it, as well. There's gonna be huge ramifications."

"So we play damage control. It's not the first time we have to do this, nor will it most likely be the last. Our lives aren't a reality show, but they're looking for it to be. They're looking for us to blow up like that American couple with all those kids a few years back."

I finally accepted the fact that he didn't blame me. It was time to stop feeling sorry for myself and for the others and do something. Be active instead of simply reactive, though there would have to be plenty of reactive measures taken. "And we're not gonna crumble under that pressure."

"Exactly!" He rolled his eyes, glad that I finally caught on. "It's not to say that I'm entirely happy with you right now; there are so many better things you could've done than gone out drinking, with Odaiba's biggest drunk of all people, but we can't go back and change the past. What's done is done. We get over it and move on." He paused for a moment. "You know, that could be a really good song title. And lyrics. Do you have a pen?"

I laughed before realizing he was completely serious. "Well, if the inspiration is calling." Walking over to the counter, I grabbed a pen, realizing the day was turning out better than I thought it would. There was still a lot to overcome, but it's not like things could get that much worse.

I handed him the pen and sat down at the kitchen table, only to be startled and spill my tea as I heard the front door open. Now, the guys were all in. They would've had to walk through the kitchen to leave, so Yama and I would've seen them. There's only one other person who has a key to this suite.

Takeru was panting as he slammed the door shut. He looked between the two of us and finally collapsed in one of the living room chairs. "It's a zoo out there!"

"They're all waiting for the afternoon feeding. I'm gonna throw Sora out to the animals for being a cheating witch." Yamato coolly replied. "That's her punishment."

Takeru and I both could only stare at him. I realized it was a joke first and started laughing. It took Takeru a couple of moments, but when he decided his brother really wasn't going to kill me, he gave a nervous chuckle. "Probably not the best time to be joking like that, Yama. Wouldn't surprise me if they actually tried to maul her the next time you guys leave this place."

"Well, we'll just camp out here until the concert and then be off on our way to the next tour stop."

Takeru stood up and pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket. As he walked by me, I could tell that it was an email of some sort. "Easier said than done, bro."

Yamato curiously grabbed the paper out of his brother's hands. "Oh shit."

"What?" I leaned closer so I could read it, but the two snatched it away before I could see anything.

"Grandma invited us all to come visit her." Takeru said slowly. From the way he said it, I could see that there was something he wasn't telling me.

"And?"

"She emailed Mom this morning and said that it's been years since she's seen her grandchildren, and it's just not fair." He looked at me closely. "You have to understand our grandmother. When she wants something, she gets it. No questions asked. You don't cross her."

"Ok," I answered, not getting what they were hinting at. "So we arrange a date for Yama and you to visit. I don't see what's so bad about that."

"She wants to meet you too, Sor."

The realization was slowly sinking in. Takeru patted my shoulder. "Grandma….well, Grandma's always been very protective of Yamato. He was her first grandson, and she's very proud of him and everything he's accomplished." He paused again, as if looking for the right words. "Grandma also is a fan of magazines, especially gossip ones. So she's been keeping an eye on you for sometime and after today's news, well…she really wants to meet this 'Scarlet Woman,' and give her a piece of her mind."

This day just got worse. Much, much worse. . .

**To be continued**

A/N: Hmm, let's make a list of things theladyknight has done since 8/17/07 when this was last updated:

-Finished two years of college

-Interned in Washington DC and helped finish a library in Nicaragua

-Ran a campaign for my two friends (which they thankfully won)

-Had a semi-collapsed lung

-Started part of my thesis

-Changed my major and a few minors

Might be forgetting a few things, but…can I apologize like Sora and be forgiven?? Haha…I'll try to keep going with this, but with my luck, life will get in the way. It'll get finished eventually, hopefully sooner rather than later, but as always, I love to hear from you and love to hear your thoughts on what's going to happen next. Please review and thank you all for sticking with this story over the past two years and before then!


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